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"\T7ITII  the  advent  of  another  New  Year,  the  general  board  sends  love  and  greetings 
vv  to  the  more  than  156,000  Relief  Society  members  living  in  many  parts  of  the 
world.  We  are  grateful  for  the  abiding  testimonies  of  Relief  Society  members  as  to  the 
divinity  of  the  work  in  which  we  are  engaged.  We  acknowledge  with  deep  appreciation 
the  devoted  service  continuously  given  to  the  work  of  the  Society  and  the  love  that 
exists  in  the  hearts  of  the  sisters  everywhere  for  Relief  Societv  and  for  one  another. 

Relief  Society  work  is  the  work  of  the  Master.  It  calls  for  love  of  God  on  the  part 
of  its  members,  with  hearts  attuned  to  his  will;  it  calls  for  love  of  his  children  character- 
ized by  the  free  and  ready  exercise  of  compassion  toward  them. 

As  we  look  forward  to  the  New  Year,  each  of  us  desires  for  this  Society  an  abun- 
dance of  blessings  from  the  Father;  we  wish  to  meet  more  fully  our  individual  responsi- 
bilities toward  the  Society.  It  is  the  season  when  each  of  us  is  imbued  with  the  deep 
desire  better  to  conduct  her  own  life  so  as  to  bring  about  greater  personal  blessings  and 
a  higher  degree  of  happiness.  It  is  but  natural  that  those  of  us  who  love  Relief  Society 
would  wish  for  its  continued  well-being.  It  is  but  natural  that  each  one  would  desire 
and  hope  for  herself  and  her  loved  ones  as  high  a  degree  of  peace,  happiness,  and  security 
as  is  possible  in  a  world  filled  with  trials  and  uncertainties. 

It  is  comforting  to  know  that,  regardless  of  the  impact  of  evil  and  the  strains  and 
stresses  of  life,  the  continued  well-being  of  Relief  Society  is  assured  and  the  blessings 
of  personal  peace  and  happiness  as  well  as  eternal  well-being  are  attainable  for  each  of 
us,  if  we  but  follow  the  path  simply  and  clearly  defined  for  us  by  the  Master: 

"And  one  of  the  scribes  came,  and  having  heard  them  reasoning  together,  and  per- 
ceiving that  he  had  answered  them  well,  asked  him,  Which  is  the  first  commandment  of 
all? 

"And  Jesus  answered  him,  The  first  of  all  the  commandments  is,  Hear,  O  Israel; 
The  Lord  our  God  is  one  Lord: 

"And  thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul, 
and  with  all  thy  mind,  and  with  all  thy  strength:  this  is  the  first  commandment. 

"And  the  second  is  like,  namely  this,  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself. 
There  is  none  other  commandment  greater  than  these. 

"And  the  scribe  said  unto  him,  Well,  Master,  thou  hast  said  the  truth:  for  there 
is  one  God;  and  there  is  none  other  but  he: 

"And  to  love  him  with  all  the  heart,  and  with  all  the  understanding,  and  with  all 
the  soul,  and  with  all  the  strength,  and  to  love  his  neighbour  as  himself,  is  more  than 
all  whole  burnt  offerings  and  sacrifices. 

"And  when  Jesus  saw  that  he  answered  discreetly,  he  said  unto  him,  Thou  art  not 
far  from  the  kingdom  of  God  .  .  ."  (Mark  12:28-34). 

One  who  is  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God  enjoys  an  incomparable  sense  of 
peace,  joy,  and  well-being. 

The  dominant  principle  of  Relief  Society  work  has  always  been  and  must  continue 
to  be  love  of  God  and  love  and  compassion  for  his  children.  Therein  lies  its  hope  of 
continued  blessings  from  the  Father  and  the  full  realization  of  its  mission.  Obedience  to 
the  first  two  great  commandments  is  the  greatest  guarantee  of  earthly  and  eternal  bless- 
ings for  each  of  us  as  individuals. 

The  sister  who  will  give  to  Relief  Society  through  the  new  year  a  full  measure  of 
devotion  will  be  an  instrument  in  bringing  about  the  desired  blessings  for  Relief  Society, 
and  she  will  find  herself  on  the  pathway  that  leads  toward  the  earthly  and  eternal  bless- 
ings she  deserves  for  herself. 

May  the  New  Year  bring  to  Relief  Society  women  everywhere  the  love,  approba- 
tion, and  blessings  of  our  Heavenly  Father  is  our  earnest  prayer. 

Belle  S.  Spa  ft  oid 
Marianne  C.  Sharp 
Velnia  N.  Simonsen 

Page  1 


Qjrofn    it 


ear  an 


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I  do  not  want  to  miss  any  issue  of  The 
Relief  Society  Magazine.  I  probably  can 
say  that  Iran  is  one  of  the  farthest  places 
this  Magazine  travels.  I  am  very  grateful 
it  can  reach  here.  I  was  so  thrilled  when 
the  September  issue  arrived,  to  open  it 
and  see  President  McKay's  picture  before 
me  and  read  the  beautiful  poem  (by  Eliz- 
abeth Hill  Boswell)  composed  especially 
for  him.  Every  word  is  true. 
— Mrs.  Bert  Gardner 

Tabriz,  Iran 

I  always  enjoy  the  lessons  in  our  fine 
Magazine  and  want  to  congratulate  you 
on  the  wonderful  story  "Meet  Mother, 
Jody,"  by  Rosa  Lee  Lloyd  (August  1955). 
I  am  sure  we  would  all  wish  to  be  the 
same  kind  of  mother-in-law.  I  also  en- 
joyed the  lovely  poem  "The  Mountain 
Climber,"  by  Maryhale  Woolsey   (August 

!955)- 

— Elsie  Jack 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

I  wish  to  thank  my  friend  Helen  Back- 
man  of  Santaquin,  Utah,  for  the  much- 
appreciated  subscription  to  The  Relief  So- 
ciety Magazine.  I  do  enjoy  the  beautiful 
lessons  and  wonderful  poetry.  The 
character-building  and  literary  attributes  of 
the  Magazine  are  something  fresh  and 
clean.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  a 
fine  group  of  writers  from  Utah  at  the 
regional  meeting  of  the  National  League 
of  American  Pen  Women  in  Cheyenne, 
Wyoming,  in  May.  I  especially  enjoyed 
the  musical  program  put  on  by  Mirla  G. 
Thayne  of  Provo.  Others  I  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  meeting  were:  Dorothy  Rea,  Olive 
W.  Burt,  Mabel  Harmer,  Oliver  Milner, 
Naomi  W.  Randall,  and  Christie  Lund 
Coles. 

— Amelia  V.  Christeson 

Lajunta.  Colorado 


I  have  found  much  pleasure  in  reading 
the  October  issue  of  The  Relief  Society 
Magazine.  The  lovely  sonnet  "I  Found 
October"  by  Agnes  Just  Reid  is  explicit 
and  alive  with  imagery.  The  article 
"Wearing  a  Pretty  Face,"  by  Mabel  Law 
Atkinson  is  arresting  and  the  import  re- 
vealing. It  is  also  vividly  realistic,  as  are 
her  exquisite  poems. 

— Helen  Gee  Woods 
Idaho  Falls,  Idaho 

The  Relief  Society  Magazine  means  so 
much  to  our  family  while  we  are  away 
from  home  and  have  no  place  to  attend 
Church  activities.  My  husband  and  I 
both  enjoy  the  stories  and  lessons. 

— Phyllis  Grant 

Naples,  Italy 

Our  members  in  the  French  Mission 
who  read  English  are  thoroughly  enjoying 
the  Magazine.  The  other  members  en- 
joy it  through  them,  and  I  am  sure  it  is 
a  means  whereby  our  sisters  feel  them- 
selves a  part  of  a  truly  great  organization. 
We  surely  appreciate  receiving  the  copies 
that  we  distribute  among  our  Relief  So- 
ciety sisters  each  month. 

— Rachel  L.  Lee 

President 

French  Mission  Relief  Society 

Paris,  France 

Six  of  my  ancestors  were  pioneers 
of  Utah,  and  I  have  been  a  member  of 
Relief  Society  for  more  than  thirty  years, 
having  served  as  First  Counselor,  visiting 
teacher,  and  class  leader.  The  wonderful 
lessons  have  been  an  inspiration  to  me, 
and  as  a  regular  subscriber,  I  have  saved 
my  Magazines. 

— Edda  Simons  Noon 
Payson,  Utah 


The  Cover:  Mountain  Vista  in  the  National  Park  near  Bariloche  by  the  Nahuel 
Huapi  Lake,  Argentina,  South  America,  Photograph  submitted  by 
Amy  Y.  Valentine 

Frontispiece  Photograph:  Mistletoe  at  Grand  Canyon,  Arizona 
Photograph  by  Josef  Muench 

Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 

Page  2 


THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 

Monthly  Publication   of  the   Relief    Society   of   The   Church   of   Jesus  Christ  of   Latter-day    Saints 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  GENERAL  BOARD 


Belle  S.   Spafford 
Marianne  C.  Sharp 
Velma  N.  Simonsen 
Margaret  C.  Pickering 


Mary  G.  Judd 
Anna  B.  Hart 
Edith  S.  Elliott 
Florence  J.  Madsen 
Leone  G.  Layton 
Blanche  B.  Stoddard 


Evon  W.  Peterson 
Leone  O.  Jacobs 
Louise  W.  Madsen 
Aleine  M.  Young 
Josie  B.  Bay 
Christine  H.  Robinson 


-  President 

-  First  Counselor 

-  Second  Counselor 

-  -  -  Secretary-Treasurer 

Alberta  H.  Christensen      Winniefred  S 

Mildred  B.  Eyring 

Helen  W.  Anderson 

Gladys  S.  Boyer 

Charlotte  A.  Larsen 

Edith  P.  Backman 


Manwaring 
Elna  P.  Haymond 
Annie  M.  Ellsworth 
Mary  R.   Young 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 


Editor 

Associate  Editor 
General  Manager 


Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Vesta  P.  Crawford 

Belle  S.  Spafiord 


Vol.  43 


JANUARY  1956 


No.  1 


e 


on  tents 


SPECIAL  FEATURES 

New  Year's  Greetings  1 

The  Objectives  of  Relief  Society  Mark  E.   Petersen     4 

Award  Winners — Eliza   R.   Snow  Poem   Contest   9 

A  Rose  for  Deseret — First  Prize  Poem  Maryhale   Woolsey  10 

Enduring  Memories — Second  Prize  Poem  Beatrice  K.   Ekman  11 

Be  Still,   My  Heart— Third  Prize  Poem   Ruth   C.    Langlois  13 

Award  Winners — Annual  Relief  Society  Short  Story  Contest  15 

"Now  Is  a  Man  Grown" — First  Prize  Story  Maryhale  Woolsey  16 

The  Argentine  Mission  Preston   Nibley  22 

Swiss  Temple  Table  Arrangement  Inez   R.   Allen  28 

How  to  Sell  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  Dr.  Royal  L.   Garff  36 

Polio  Isn't  Licked  Yet  Basil   O'Connor  37 

Biographical   Sketches  of  Award  Winners  in  the   Eliza  R.   Snow  Poem  Contest  53 

FICTION 

The  Living  Gifts  Dorothy  B.  Kilian  24 

The  Closed  Circle  Beatrice  R.   Parsons  38 

Hermanas — Chapter  7  Fay  Tarlock  48 

GENERAL  FEATURES 

From   Near  and   Far   2 

Sixty    Years    Ago   30 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.   Cannon  31 

Editorial:  Greetings  for  the  New  Year  Velma  N.  Simonsen  32 

In   Memoriam — Emeline   Young    Nebeker   33 

Covers  Will  Feature  Missions  Outside  Continental  United  States 

New  Serial   "There  Is  Still   Time"   to   Begin   in   February  33 

Notes  to  the  Field:   Relief  Society  Assigned  Evening  Meeting  of  Fast   Sunday  in  March  34 

Lesson  Work  for  Spanish-Speaking  Relief  Societies  and  Other  Minority  Groups  in  Stakes  34 

Award    Subscriptions    Presented    in    April    35 

Bound  Volumes   of    1955   Relief   Society   Magazines    35 

FEATURES  FOR  THE  HOME 

Recipes  from  Argentina  Keith  F.  Thompson  29 

Vegetables— A  Different   Way  Every  Day— Part  II Rhea   H.    Gardner  46 

Reba   Turner,   Lady   of   Charity   - 47 

LESSONS  FOR  APRIL 

Theology:  Signs  of  the  Crucifixion;  the  Voice  of  Jesus  Christ  Is  Heard  Leland  H.  Monson  54 

Visiting   Teacher   Messages:    "But   Behold,   the   Resurrection   of   Christ   Redeemeth    Mankind," 

Edith  S.  Elliott  57 

Work  Meeting:  Vegetable  Cookery  (Continued)   Rhea  H.  Gardner  58 

Literature:  Thomas  Hardy   "The  Return  of  the  Native"  Briant  S.   Jacobs  60 

Social  Science:   The  Constitution  and  World  Affairs  Albert   R.   Bowen  66 

POETRY 
"Today,"  by  Etta  Robbins,   8;   "Winter  Memory,"   by  Grace  Barker  Wilson,   8;    "Threshold,"   by 
Catherine  E.   Berry,   14;   "Weaving,"  by  Miriam  W.  Wright,   26;   "New  Year's  Day,"  by  Christie 
Lund    Coles,    27;    "At    Midnight,    December    Thirty-first,"    by    Katherine    F.    Larsen,    35;     "Time 
Eternal,"  by  Vesta  N.   Lukei,  72. 


PUBLISHED  MONTHLY  BY  THE  GENERAL  BOARD  OF  RELIEF  SOCIETY 

Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah,  Phone  EM  4-2511  ;  Sub- 
scriptions 246;  Editorial  Dept.  245.  Subscription  Price:  $1.50  a  year;  foreign,  $2.00  a  year, 
payable  in  advance.  Single  copy,  15c.  The  Magazine  is  not  sent  after  subscription  expires.  No 
back  numbers  can  be  supplied.  Renew  promptly  so  that  no  copies  will  be  missed.  Report  change 
of  address  at  once,  giving  old  and  new  address. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  February  18,  1914,  at  the  Post  Office,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  under 
the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Acceptance  for  mailing  at  special  rate  of  postage  provided  for  in 
section  1103,  Act  of  October  8,  1917,  authorized  June  29,  1918.  Manuscripts  will  not  be  returned 
unless  return  postage  is  enclosed.  Rejected  manuscripts  will  be  retained  for  six  months  only. 
The  Magazine  is  not  responsible  for  unsolicited  manuscripts. 

Page  3 


The  Objectives  of  Relief  Society 

Elder  Mark  E.  Petersen 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual  General  Relief  Society  Conference, 

September  28,  1955] 


IT  has  surely  been  an  inspiration 
to  me,  my  dear  sisters,  to  be 
present  in  this  meeting  with 
you  this  afternoon.  The  Relief  So- 
ciety always  has  been  a  great  inspira- 
tion to  me.  I  have  great  respect 
not  only  for  the  organization  as 
such,  but  for  you  who  officer  the 
organization,  and  surely  for  the  gen- 
eral presidency  and  general  board 
who  direct  the  work.  I  join  whole- 
heartedly with  what  Sister  Sharp 
said  about  the  general  board  and 
Sister  SpafTord,  and  I  would  surely 
like  to  add  Sister  Simonsen  and  Sis- 
ter Sharp  in  that  reference.  These 
ladies  are  simply  wonderful.  They 
are  so  outstanding.  They  surely 
have  been  abundantly  blessed  of  the 
Lord,  and  the  reason  the  Lord 
blesses  them  so  is  because  they 
themselves  are  so  devoted.  They 
put  their  all  on  the  altar  and  they 
never  hold  anything  back.  They 
give  so  freely  of  themselves,  and  are 
so  obedient  to  the  Lord  that  he  can 
work  through  them  successfully  and 
use  them  as  wonderful  instruments 
in  accomplishing  his  purposes  on  the 
earth. 

So  I  am  grateful  for  the  oppor- 
tunity and  the  privilege  of  paying 
tribute  this  day  to  the  Relief  Society 
and  the  wonderful  ladies  who  direct 
its  work  both  Church-wide  and  in 
the  stakes  and  the  wards  and  in  the 
missions. 

I  have  been  very  happy  with  the 
music  that  we  have  had  here  today, 

Page  4 


I  am  always  happy  with  things  that 
come  from  Sugar  House  Stake.  For 
a  time  I  was  privileged  to  be  in  the 
stake  presidency  of  that  stake,  and 
so  whenever  I  hear  of  Sugar  House 
Stake  accomplishing  things,  it  makes 
me  very  happy.  I  was  very  glad  to 
hear  this  wonderful  chorus  under 
the  very  able  direction  of  Sister  Ann 
Jones  whom  I  have  known  for  some 
years,  together  with  her  husband, 
and  for  whom  I  also  have  very  great 
respect. 

I  would  like  to  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  your  music  here  today  as  I 
talk  with  you.  You  remember  that 
our  opening  song  was  "Earth,  With 
Her  Ten  Thousand  Flowers": 

Earth,  with  her  ten  thousand  flow'rs, 
Air,  with  all  its  beams  and  show'rs, 
Heaven's  infinite  expanse, 
Sea's  resplendent  countenance, 
All  around  and  all  above, 
Bear  this  record,  God  is  love. 

Sounds  among  the  vales  and  hills, 
In  the  woods  and  by  the  rills, 
Of  the  breeze  and  of  the  bird, 
By  the  gentle  murmur  stirred, 
Sacred  songs,  beneath,  above, 
Have  one  chorus,  God  is  love. 

All  the  hopes  that  sweetly  start 
From  the  fountain  of  the  heart, 
All  the  bliss  that  ever  comes 
To  our  earthly  human  homes, 
All  the  voices  from  above, 
Sweetly  whisper,  God  is  love. 

— "Earth,  With  Her  Ten  Thousand 
Flowers,"  William  W.  Phelps  and 
Thomas  C.  Griggs. 


THE  OBJECTIVES  OF  RELIEF  SOCIETY 


I  was  also  happy  that  we  sang  that 
one  verse  of  my  favorite  hymn, 
''Love  at  Home." 

On  the  front  of  your  program, 
did  you  notice  the  seal  of  the  Re- 
lief Society,  and  did  you  notice  on 
the  upper  rim  of  that  seal  the  little 
expression  "Charity  Never  Faileth"? 
Do  you  remember  that  The  Book 
of  Mormon  tells  us  that  true  charity 
is  the  true  love  of  God?  So  again 
everything  whispers  "God  is  love." 

TV/TAY   I  take  the  opportunity  of 
reading  just  a  little  bit  from 
Paul's  wonderful  first  Epistle  to  the 
Corinthians: 

Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of 
men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not  charity, 
I  am  become  as  sounding  brass,  or  a  tink- 
ling cymbal. 

And  though  I  have  the  gift  of  prophecy, 
and  understand  all  mysteries,  and  all 
knowledge;  and  though  I  have  all  faith, 
so  that  I  could  remove  mountains,  and 
have  not  charity,  I  am  nothing. 

And  though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to 
feed  the  poor,  and  though  I  give  my  body 
to  be  burned,  and  have  not  charity,  it 
profiteth  me  nothing. 

Charity  suffereth  long,  and  is  kind; 
charity  cnvieth  not;  charity  vaunteth  not 
itself,  is  not  puffed  up, 

Doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly,  seek- 
eth  not  her  own,  is  not  easily  provoked, 
thinketh  no  evil; 

Rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth 
in  the  truth; 

Beareth  all  things,  believeth  all  things, 
hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things. 

Charity  never  faileth;  but  whether 
there  be  prophecies,  they  shall  fail;  wheth- 
er there  be  tongues,  they  shall  cease; 
whether  there  be  knowledge,  it  shall  van- 
ish away. 

For  we  know  in  part,  and  we  prophesy 
in  part. 

But  when  that  which  is  perfect  is  come, 
then  that  which  is  in  part  shall  be  done 
away. 

When  I  was  a  child,  I  spake  as  a  child, 
I  understood  as  a  child,   I   thought  as  a 


child:  but  when  I  became  a  man,  I  put 
away  childish  things. 

For  now  we  see  through  a  glass,  darkly; 
but  then  face  to  face:  now  I  know  in 
part;  but  then  shall  I  know  even  as  also 
I  am  known. 

And  now  abideth  faith,  hope,  charity, 
these  three;  but  the  greatest  of  these  is 
charity  (I  Cor.  13:1-13). 

Reference  has  been  made  several 
times  to  the  instructions  given  by 
the  Prophet  Joseph  Smith  to  the 
Relief  Society  in  the  day  in  which 
he  lived.  You  remember  that  on 
the  day  of  organization,  the  Prophet 
Joseph  Smith  held  out  three  prin- 
cipal objectives  for  the  Relief  So- 
ciety. One  was  to  provoke  the 
brethren  to  good  works.  We  hear 
a  great  deal  about  that  one,  and  so 
we  should,  but  I  hope  we  will 
always  add  the  latter  part.  Some- 
times it  is  not  put  on,  you  know, 
and  we  merely  say  "to  provoke  the 
brethren,"  but  we  hope  that  they 
will  always  be  provoked  to  good 
works.  The  second  was  to  search 
for  objects  of  charity  and  look  after 
their  needs,  and  the  third  was  to  as- 
sist in  correcting  the  morals  and 
strengthening  the  virtues  of  the 
community. 

Now  the  Prophet,  later,  talked 
further  with  the  sisters  about  their 
great  work,  and  emphasized  par- 
ticularly two  points:  to  search  out 
the  needy  and  provide  for  them; 
and  endeavor  to  uplift  the  stand- 
ards, the  living  standards,  the  moral 
standards,  of  the  community.  He 
knew  that  in  order  to  accomplish 
the  purpose  he  had  in  mind  for 
them,  the  sisters  must  have  a  par- 
ticular attitude.  They  must  ap- 
proach these  objectives  in  a  cer- 
tain frame  of  mind,  otherwise  they 
could    not    accomplish    this    great 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


thing.  That  attitude  of  mind,  or 
the  approach  they  were  to  make, 
was  based  entirely  upon  a  spirit  of 
love,  of  compassion,  of  genuine 
charity  which  was  the  true  love  of 
Christ.  If  we  do  not  approach  our 
work  with  that  spirit,  then  can  we, 
in  truth,  accomplish  our  work? 
Again  let  me  remind  you  of  Paul: 

Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of 
men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not  charity, 
I  am  become  as  sounding  brass,  or  a 
tinkling  cymbal  .... 

And  though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to 
feed  the  poor,  and  though  I  give  my  body 
to  be  burned,  and  have  not  charity,  it 
profiteth  me  nothing  (I  Cor.  13:1,  3). 

Though  I  have  the  grandest  Re- 
lief Society  program  in  the  world, 
though  I  have  the  very  best  inten- 
tion, though  there  are  many  people 
to  help,  unless  I  carry  on  my  work 
in  the  true  spirit  of  charity,  with 
love  and  compassion  in  my  heart,  I 
am  nothing. 

I  am  fully  convinced  that  one  of 
the  greatest  of  all  the  command- 
ments is  what  we  speak  of  as  the 
Golden  Rule.  ".  .  .  all  things  what- 
soever ye  would  that  men  should 
do  to  you,  do  ye  even  so  to 
them  .  .  ."  (Mt.  7:12).  We  can- 
not do  our  Relief  Society  work  or 
any  Church  work  and  do  it  the  way 
the  Lord  would  have  it  done  unless 
we  have  the  spirit  of  the  Golden 
Rule  in  our  hearts. 

f~XF  course,  this  Golden  Rule 
comes  back  to  the  second  great 
commandment,  which  is  like  unto 
the  first,  ".  .  .  Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbour  as  thyself  .  .  ."  (Mark 
12:31).  Upon  these  two  command- 
ments hang  all  the  law  and  the 
prophets.    So,  no  matter  what  our 


works  may  be  or  what  our  words 
may  be,  if  we  do  not  have  as  our 
great  motivating  force,  the  true 
spirit  of  compassion,  are  we  not  as 
sounding  brass  or  a  tinkling  cymbal? 
May  I  quote  from  one  of  the  ad- 
dresses given  by  the  Prophet  Joseph 
Smith,  to  the  early  meetings  of  the 
Relief  Society.  Referring  to  unfor- 
tunate individuals,  he  said: 

.  .  .  they  are  fellow  mortals,  we  loved 
them  once,  shall  we  not  encourage  them 
to  reformation?  We  have  not  [yet]  for- 
given them  seventy  times  seven,  as  our 
Savior  directed;  perhaps  we  have  not  for- 
given them  once.  There  is  now  a  day 
of  salvation  to  such  as  repent  and  re- 
form .... 

.  .  .  We  must  be  merciful  to  one  an- 
other .... 

Nothing  is  so  much  calculated  to  lead 
people  to  forsake  sin  as  to  take  them  by 
the  hand,  and  watch  over  them  with 
tenderness.  When  persons  manifest  the 
least  kindness  and  love  to  me,  O  what 
power  it  has  over  my  mind,  while  the 
opposite  course  has  a  tendency  to  harrow 
up  all  the  harsh  feelings  and  depress  the 
human  mind  .... 

The  power  and  glory  of  godliness  is 
spread  out  on  a  broad  principle  to  throw 
out  the  mantle  of  charity.  God  does  not 
look  on  sin  with  allowance,  but  when 
men  have  sinned,  there  must  be  allow- 
ance made  for  them  .... 

The  nearer  we  get  to  our  heavenly 
Father,  the  more  we  are  disposed  to  look 
with  compassion  on  perishing  souls.  .  .  . 
My  talk  is  intended  for  all  this  society; 
if  you  would  have  God  have  mercy  on 
you,  have  mercy  on  one  another.  .  .  . 

There  should  be  no  license  for  sin,  but 
mercy  should  go  hand  in  hand  with  re- 
proof .  .  .  (D.  H.  C.  Vol.  V,  pp.  20, 
23-24). 

And  then  the  Prophet  said  this: 

.  .  .  The  Ladies'  Relief  Society  is  not 
only  to  relieve  the  poor,  but  to  save 
souls.  .  .  .  (D.  H.  C.  V,  page  25.) 

He    taught    the    glorious    lesson 


THE  OBJECTIVES  OF  RELIEF  SOCIETY 


that  by  love  and  compassion,  we 
can  save  souls.  We  can  show  love 
and  compassion  to  the  sinner,  and 
we  can  show  love  and  compassion 
to  those  who  are  poor  and  needy 
and  have  a  lack  of  this  world's 
goods.  We  need  that  love,  that 
language  of  the  heart,  which  goes 
out  to  both  sets  of  people. 

We  are  not  to  take  the  position 
that  people  may  have  brought  this 
difficulty  upon  themselves,  and 
therefore,  are  to  blame  and  they 
ought  to  suffer  it  out.  We  cannot 
judge.  It  is  not  for  us  to  judge 
anyone.  It  would  be  wonderful  if 
every  Relief  Society  sister  in  the 
reading  of  The  Book  of  Mormon 
would  refer  back  at  least  once  a 
week  to  that  marvelous  address  of 
King  Benjamin  who  spoke  about 
charity  and  kindness  toward  our 
fellow  men,  and  who  carried  out 
this  very  thought,  of  which  we 
have  spoken  this  afternoon,  that  we 
need  not  think  that  we  are  any 
better  than  anyone  else.  We  need 
not  think  that  any  person  who  is 
in  difficulty  has  brought  it  upon 
himself,  and  therefore,  we  should 
withhold  the  hand  of  charity.  That 
is  not  the  true  spirit  of  Christ. 

May  we  remember  that  always, 
and  remember,  too,  that  if  we  are 
going  to  be  the  true  handmaidens 
and  the  true  servants  of  the  Lord, 
we  must  have  that  Christ-like  spir- 
it which  led  him  to  say  "Blessed 
are  the  merciful:  for  they  shall  ob- 
tain mercy"    (Mt.   5:7). 

/^UR  attitude  toward  our  fellow 
men  is  so  important  to  the 
manner  in  which  God  will  judge 
us.  It  isn't  just  the  handing  out 
with    the    hand.    We    must    give 


from  the  heart.  And  if  we,  with  the 
spirit  of  love  and  the  spirit  of  Christ, 
can  draw  near  to  unfortunate  peo- 
ple, extending  our  hand  of  fellow- 
ship through  the  language  of  love, 
we  will  save  souls. 

I  remember  so  well  the  marvelous 
example  set  for  us  by  our  beloved 
President  George  Albert  Smith,  who 
always  told  us  that  we  were  to  love 
people  into  the  Church.  Do  you 
remember  that? 

I  am  always  impressed  by  the 
25th  chapter  of  Matthew,  and  may 
I  just  refer  briefly  to  it.  You  re- 
member how  the  Lord  there  told 
about  the  judgment  and  said: 

...  I  was  an  hungred,  and  ye  gave 
me  meat:  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me 
drink:  I  was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me 
in: 

Naked,  and  ye  clothed  me:  I  was  sick, 
and  ye  visited  me:  I  was  in  prison,  and 
ye  came  unto  me   (Mt.  25:35-36). 

When  I  read  those  words,  I  think 
of  you  wonderful  ladies  of  the  Re- 
lief Society,  because  you  call  upon 
the  sick,  you  call  upon  those  who 
are  unfortunate  otherwise,  and  if 
they  are  hungry,  you  feed  them,  if 
they  are  naked,  you  clothe  them, 
if  they  are  downcast,  you  lift  them 
up  in  their  spirits. 

.  .  .  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto 
one  of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren, 
ye  have  done  it  unto  me  (Mt.  25:40). 

It  is  in  that  spirit  of  love  and 
compassion  that  we  accomplish  the 
great  work  of  the  Savior. 

Do  you  remember  what  he  said 
to  the  Prophet  Joseph  in  one  of  his 
great  revelations? 

And  faith,  hope,  charity  and  love,  with 
an  eye  single  to  the  glory  of  God,  qual- 
ify him  for  the  work. 


8 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


Remember  faith,  virtue,  knowledge, 
temperance,  patience,  brotherly  kindness, 
godliness,   charity,   humility,  diligence. 

Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive;  knock,  and 
it  shall  be  opened  unto  you.  Amen 
(D.&C.  4:5-7). 

I  am  grateful  for  the  privilege 
again  of  paying  tribute  to  the  mar- 
velous work  you  do  and  to  each 
one  of  you  who  does  the  work.     I 


am  grateful  beyond  expression  for 
the  Relief  Society.  I  am  grateful 
beyond  expression  for  the  spirit  of 
love  and  compassion  you  exhibit  in 
your  work,  and  that  you  may 
always  have  it,  and  that  you  may 
breathe  that  spirit  into  all  of  your 
instructions  and  in  your  leadership 
throughout  the  Church,  is  my  hum- 
ble prayer  in  Jesus'  name.    Amen. 


Sfodi 


ay 


Etta  Robbins 

Today  is  an  assignment 
The  Lord  has  given  me, 
To  magnify  each  moment — 
To  live  consistently. 

Tomorrow  is  a  field  unknown 
Its  harvest,  who  can  say? 
Yet  it  may  yield  rich  fruitage 
From  seed  I  sow  today. 


Winter   771 


emortf 


Grace  Barker  Wilson 


Something  there  is  that  echoes  in  my  heart 

When  snow  begins  to  fall  and  lie  in  drifts 

On  hillside  and  arroyo.    A  small  part 

Of  mountain  winter  comes  when  the  wind  lifts 

A  tumble  weed,  and  rolls  it  like  a  ball 

Across  the  whitening  plain.     We  used  to  make 

A  snowball  on  the  slope  where  meadows  fall 

Away,  and  let  it  gather  size,  and  take 

Its  course  down  to  the  brook.  We  followed  then 

And  laughed  to  see  it  grow.    And  we  came  back 

Along  its  trail  to  start  it  all  again; 

And  through  the  snow  it  left  a  darkened  track. 

Something  there  is  I  find  remembering  sweet, 

When  wintertime  and  snow  and  memories  meet. 


uxward    vi/tnners 

ibltza  U\.  Snow  Lroern   Contest 


HTHE  Relief  Society  general  board 
is  pleased  to  announce  the 
names  of  the  three  winners  in  the 
1955  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest. 
This  contest  was  announced  in  the 
May  1955  issue  of  the  Magazine, 
and  closed  August  15,  1955. 

The  first  prize  of  twenty-five  dol- 
lars is  awarded  to  Maryhale  Wool- 
sey,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  for  her 
poem  "A  Rose  for  Deseret."  The 
second  prize  of  twenty  dollars  is 
awarded  to  Beatrice  Knowlton  Ek- 
man,  Portland,  Oregon,  for  her 
poem  "Enduring  Memories."  The 
third  prize  of  fifteen  dollars  is 
awarded  to  Ruth  C.  Langlois,  Salt 
Lake  City,  Utah,  for  her  poem  "Be 
Still  My  Heart." 

This  poem  contest  has  been  con- 
ducted annually  by  the  Relief  So- 
ciety general  board  since  1924  in 
honor  of  Eliza  R.  Snow,  second  gen- 
eral president  of  Relief  Society,  a 
gifted  poet  and  beloved  leader. 

The  contest  is  open  to  all  Latter- 
day  Saint  women,  and  is  designed 
to  encourage  poetry  writing,  and  to 
increase  appreciation  for  creative 
writing  and  the  beauty  and  value  of 
poetry. 

Prize-winning  poems  are  the  prop- 
erty of  the  Relief  Society  general 
board,  and  may  not  be  used  for  pub- 
lication by  others  except  upon  writ- 
ten permission  of  the  general  board. 
The  general  board  also  reserves  the 
right  to  publish  any  of  the  poems 
submitted,  paying  for  them  at  the 
time  of  publication  at  the  regular 


Magazine  rate.  A  writer  who  has 
received  the  first  prize  for  two  con- 
secutive years  must  wait  two  years 
before  she  is  again  eligible  to  enter 
the  contest. 

There  were  118  poems  submitted 
in  this  year's  contest.  Many  of  the 
poems  revealed  a  discriminating 
choice  of  subject  material  and  a 
careful  use  of  poetic  technique. 

Nineteen  states  and  the  District 
of  Columbia  were  represented  in 
the  contest  entries.  The  largest 
number  of  submissions  came  in  the 
following  order:  Utah,  California, 
Arizona,  Idaho,  Colorado,  Missouri, 
Virginia.  Four  entries  were  received 
from  Canada,  two  from  Australia, 
and  one  from  England. 

Mrs.  Woolsey,  winner  of  the  first 
prize,  appears  for  the  first  time  as  a 
winner  in  the  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem 
Contest.  Mrs.  Ekman  was  awarded 
second  place  in  1932  and  in  1936. 
Mrs.  Langlois  is  a  first-time  winner 
in  the  contest. 

The  general  board  congratulates 
the  prize  winners  and  expresses  ap- 
preciation to  all  entrants  for  their 
interest  in  the  contest.  The  general 
board  wishes,  also,  to  thank  the 
judges  for  their  care  and  diligence 
in  selecting  the  prize  -  winning 
poems.  The  services  of  the  poetry 
committee  of  the  general  board  are 
very  much  appreciated. 

The  prize-winning  poems,  togeth- 
er with  photographs  and  biograph- 
ical sketches  of  the  prize-winning 
contestants,  are  published  herewith. 

Page  9 


[Prize-  vi/tnntng  Lroems 

Eliza  Roxey  Snow  Memorial  Poem  Contest 


MARYHALE  WOOLSEY 
First  Prize  Poem 

c/t  uiose  for  LQeseret 

Maryhale  Woolsey 

On  leaving  their  old  home,  she  brought  along 

To  this  new  land,  some  sturdy  roots  of  rose — 
Cinnamon-scented  blossoms  she  had  loved, 

That  brightened  every  June.    One  might  suppose 
It  foolish,  sharing  the  crowded  wagon  space 

With  non-essentials;  but  her  John,  loving-wise, 
Approved  ....  His  spade  turned  the  hard  earth  to  set 

Them  in.  (Hope  was  so  fragile  in  her  eyes!) 

But  those  small  twisted  roots  held  stubborn  life. 

.  .  .  The  first  young  leaves,  to  her,  were  almost  pain- 
So  keen  her  joy  to  see  them  greening  there 

Amid  the  vastness  of  sage-burdened  plain. 
She  carried  precious  water  for  their  need, 

Kept  guard  against  the  locust  and  the  crow, 
Routed  encroaching  weeds,  and  blanketed 

With  sand  and  brush,  against  the  winter's  snow. 
Page  10 


Eagerly  one  June  morning,  even  before 

She  dressed,  or  started  up  the  breakfast  fire, 
She  hastened  from  the  cabin  door,  to  stand 

Entranced  beside  the  wonder,  to  admire 
A  bright,  full-opened  yellow  blossom.    Then 

She  knew,  herself,  the  triumph  men  must  feel 
In  empire-conquest.    Home  was  hers  at  last — 

This  first  proud  rose  a  symbol,  and  a  seal. 


BEATRICE   KNOWLTON  EKMAN 


Second  Prize  Poem 

\onauring    1 1 ternortes 

Beatrice  Knowlton  Ekman 

So  long,  so  long  since  my  wandering  feet 
Last  turned  away  from  my  Grandfather's  door, 
But  the  cherished  memories  are  clear  and  sweet 
And  my  heart  brims  up  with  such  golden  store, 
That  I  go  at  will  to  the  old  loved  home, 
To  the  mown  sweet  hay  and  meadowlark's  cry, 
To  the  tree-fringed  acres  of  teeming  loam 
Under  piled,  white  clouds  in  a  blue,  blue  sky. 


Page  11 


I  leave  the  train  at  the  low,  red  station 

And  follow  the  tracks  to  the  crossing  place 

Where  the  dirt  road  leads  to  my  destination, 

Through  the  wild  sweet  clover  and  Queen  Ann's  lace. 

When  I  take  the  turn  for  the  low  hill's  crest 

By  the  marshy  pool  that  has  cupped  the  rain, 

A  flock  of  swift  blackbirds,  yellow  of  breast, 

Wing  up  from  the  cattails  and  bullrush  cane. 

At  the  top  of  the  hill,  from  the  clumped  oak  brush, 

Comes  the  plaintive  call  of  the  whistling  quail, 

As  up  and  away,  in  its  coat  of  plush, 

Like  a  streak  of  light,  leaps  a  cottontail. 

I  follow  down  to  the  foot  of  the  hill 

Where  the  lucern  fields  stretch  far  and  green 

Past  the  red  brick  schoolhouse,  empty  and  still, 

Standing  alone  in  the  small  ravine. 

To  the  east  tall  mountain  peaks  notch  the  sky 

And  farm  land  checkers  the  foothill's  side; 

To  the  west  the  Inland  Sea  waters  lie, 

And  over  salt  marshes  the  gray  gulls  glide. 

At  the  end  of  the  field  I  climb  the  stile 
And  walk  in  the  shade  of  the  locust  lane; 
From  the  nearby  pasture  the  milch  cows  file, 
And  the  west  has  cradled  the  sun  again. 
The  herd  boy  has  put  up  the  pasture  bars, 
And  birds  in  the  hedge  row  drowsily  fret. 

The  night  will  be  crowned  with  a  roof  of  stars, 
For  the  windows  flame  with  the  red  sunset. 
Through  the  bending  willows  the  swift  creek  flows 
And  the  narrow  footbridge  sways  with  its  strain; 

Through  the  shining  windows  the  lamplight  glows 
On  night  moths  futilely  beating  the  pane  .... 
At  the  supper  table  we  take  our  place. 
My  Grandmother  sits  in  her  straight  armchair. 
Light  falls  on  my  Grandfather's  deep-lined  face 
And  his  bowed  white  head  as  he  offers  prayer. 


Page  12 


RUTH  C.  LANGLOIS 


Third  Prize  Poem 


{Be  Still    ITlii  (jl^art 


Ruth  C.  Langlois 


Now  spins  the  universe  its  years  away, 

Drops  each  by  one  in  time  not  slow  nor  fast, 

Blind  and  unchanged  from  day  to  darkened  day, 

Nor  caring  what  ages  are,  nor  musty  past; 

Heaping  the  dust  upon  a  manger  far 

From  jeweled  city  and  the  might  of  men, 

Losing  in  galaxies  one  brighter  star 

That  man  will  ne'er  identify  again. 

Ah,  Bethlehem,  how  little  cares  the  night 

That  in  thy  darkened  streets  once  angels  trod; 

That  once  this  little  place  held  all  the  light 

Of  seraphims  in  song  for  love  of  God! 

Search  not  the  hills,  my  heart,  nor  cobbled  street, 

Nor  rocky  cavern  where  the  Infant  lay 

For  some  small,  certain  sign,  obscure  and  sweet, 

To  tell  thee  God  was  born  to  man  that  day. 


Page  13 


His  gentle  passing  left  no  graven  mark 

For  thee  to  read  and  say,  "I  know!  I  know!" 

Nay!  Through  the  crumbling  ages  each  must  hark 

To  whispering  truth  that  falls  as  snow  on  snow, 

Till,  solitary  as  the  star  that  swings 

Ten  million  light  years  from  his  next  of  kin, 

To  thee  alone,  all  clear,  the  angel  sings 

His  message,  flooding  hallowed  light  within 

The  still,  dark  caverns  of  thy  wondering  doubt. 

Oh!  mark  how  bright  his  message  then  doth  glisten, 
How  true  and  sweet  each  measured  note  rings  out 
To  fill  thy  soul!  Be  still,  my  heart,  and  listen! 


*Note:  For  biographical  sketches  of  the  award  winners  in  the  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem 
Contest,  see  page  53. 


cJhreshold 


Catherine  E.  Berry 

In  a  few  brief  moments  the  bells  will  ring 
Proclaiming  the  old  year  has  gone, 
A  requiem  for  the  memories  that  cling, 
A  salute  to  the  coming  dawn. 

Here  in  this  small  space  of  time  we  review 
The  blessing  the  new  year  imparts, 
The  hopes  and  the  promises  life  will  renew, 
The  vision  of  dreams  for  our  hearts. 

On  the  threshold  of  time  we  say  a  prayer 

For  all  of  the  days  that  will  be, 

May  wc  follow  the  star  that  is  gleaming  out  there, 

To  the  goal  of  our  destiny. 


Page  14 


J/L\vam    vytfifiers 

^rinnual  LKeltef  Society  Snort  Story  L^ontest 


rpHE  Relief  Society  general  board 
is  pleased  to  announce  the 
award  winners  in  the  Annual  Relief 
Society  Short  Story  Contest  which 
was  announced  in  the  May  1955 
issue  of  the  Magazine,  and  which 
closed  August  15,  1955. 

The  first  prize  of  fifty  dollars  is 
awarded  to  Maryhale  Woolsey,  Salt 
Lake  City,  for  her  story  "Now  Is  a 
Man  Grown."  The  second  prize  of 
forty  dollars  is  awarded  to  Margaret 
Hardy,  Salt  Lake  City,  for  her  story 
"Keep  Me  Forever."  The  third 
prize  of  thirty  dollars  is  awarded  to 
Edith  Larson,  Manton,  Michigan, 
for  her  story  "Room  for  Nancy." 

Mrs.  Woolsey  is  a  first-time  win- 
ner in  the  Annual  Relief  Society 
Short  Story  Contest,  although  she 
is  a  frequent  contributor  to  the 
Magazine.  Mrs.  Hardy  and  Mrs. 
Larson  also  appear  as  award  winners 
for  the  first  time.  It  is  interesting  to 
note  that  this  year,  for  the  first  time 
since  the  contests  were  initiated,  the 
same  woman  has  won  the  first  prize 
both  in  the  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem 
Contest  and  in  the  Short  Story  Con- 
test. 

The  Annual  Relief  Society  Short 
Storv  Contest  was  first  conducted 
by  the  Relief  Society  general  board 
in  1941,  as  a  feature  of  the  Relief 
Society  centennial  observance,  and 
was  made  an  annual  contest  in  1942. 
The  contest  is  open  only  to  Latter- 
day  Saint  women  who  have  had  at 
least  one  literary  composition  pub- 
lished or  accepted  for  publication  by 
a  periodical  of  recognized  merit. 

The   three   prize-winning   stories 


will  be  published  consecutively  in 
the  first  three  issues  of  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine  for  1956. 

Thirty-four  stories  were  entered 
in  the  contest  for  1955.  Many  of 
these  stories  were  unusually  well 
written. 

The  contest  was  initiated  to  en- 
courage Latter-day  Saint  women  to 
express  themselves  in  the  field  of 
fiction.  The  general  board  feels 
that  the  response  to  this  opportun- 
ity continues  to  increase  the  literary 
quality  of  The  Relief  Society  Maga- 
zine, and  will  aid  the  women  of  the 
Church  in  the  development  of  their 
gifts  in  creative  writing. 

Prize-winning  stories  are  the  prop- 
erty of  the  Relief  Society  general 
board,  and  may  not  be  used  for  pub- 
lication by  others  except  on  written 
permission  from  the  general  board. 
The  general  board  also  reserves  the 
right  to  publish  any  of  the  stories 
submitted  in  the  contest,  paying  for 
them  at  the  time  of  publication  at 
the  regular  Magazine  rate. 

A  writer  who  has  received  the  first 
prize  for  two  consecutive  years  must 
wait  two  years  before  she  is  again 
eligible  to  enter  the  contest. 

The  general  board  congratulates 
the  prize-winning  contestants,  and 
expresses  appreciation  to  all  those 
who  submitted  stories.  Sincere 
gratitude  is  extended  to  the  judges 
for  their  discernment  and  skill  in 
selecting  the  prize-winning  stories. 
The  general  board  also  acknowl- 
edges, with  appreciation,  the  work 
of  the  short  storv  committee  in 
supervising  the  contest. 

Page  15 


QJtrst  y^rtze-  vt/inniag  Story 

Kslnnual  LKe/tef  Society  Snort  Story   Contest 


4  4 


Now  Is  a  Man  Grown' 


Maryhale  Woolsey 


OUTSIDE,  an  early  November 
afternoon  moved  toward  its 
end,  wan  yellow  light  fading 
to  gray;  there  was  a  hint  of  ice  in 
the  small  wind  and  of  snow  in 
clouds  piling  up  at  the  western  hori- 
zon. But  in  the  roomy  "living- 
kitchen"  at  the  Hirsch  farm  there 
was  the  warmth  of  a  coal  fire  in  the 
range,  the  cheer  of  light  from  a  red- 
shaded  lamp  hanging  above  the  set 
supper  table,  and  the  comfortable 
pleasant  odors  of  sausage  and  fresh 
bread  and  baked  potatoes  and  spicy 
peach  cobbler.  Poppadee  would  be 
coming  any  minute  now,  and  soon 
the  good  meal  would  be  over  and  it 
would  be  time  to  read  the  Letter. 

And  to  open  the  large  flat  pack- 
age marked  "Photograph." 

Mommadee  had  almost  yielded 
to  an  urge  to  open  that.  Exciting, 
it  was,  so  big  and  important-seem- 
ing, and  oh,  she  was  impatient  to 
see  it!  To  see  The  Boy's  face  look- 
ing out  of  it  at  her  .  .  .  but  it  would 
be  unfair  for  her  to  see  it  first  and 
all  by  herself.  So  she  had  set  it 
behind  the  Letter  on  top  of  the 
linen  chest,  where  all  The  Boy's  let- 
ters in  turn  waited  for  their  time  to 
be  read. 

Poppadee  would  do  the  reading, 
while  Mommadee  sat  close  by  in 
her  rocking  chair,  mending  or  darn- 
ing. Poppadee  could  read  beautiful- 
ly,   his    voice    making    a    pleasant 

Page  16 


rumbling  sound  in  the  room  and 
sometimes  sounding  so  much  like 
The  Boy's  voice  that  it  was  almost 
as  if  the  three  of  them  were  there, 
all  magically  and  happily  together. 
After  the  reading,  they  would  talk 
over  The  Letter  and  their  dream  of 
when  The  Boy  would  be  home 
again  and  starting  the  big  task  of 
making  the  farm  over  into  the  small 
dairy  that  was  his  dream  of  the  fu- 
ture. 

It  was  a  lovely  ritual  they  made 
of  each  letter  reading.  Tonight  it 
would  be  especially  pleasant  be- 
cause of  the  brightness  and  cheer 
and  warmth  of  their  house  against 
the  outdoors  cold  and  storm  threat. 
Mommadee  loved  the  small  flicker- 
ing of  the  old  range  through  its 
tiny  windows;  its  spot  of  warmth  in 
these  late  autumn  days  when  it  was 
not  time  to  start  up  the  big  furnace, 
and  yet  too  cool  to  have  no  fire  at 
all.  The  electric  stove  which  stood 
in  shiny  whiteness  and  baffling 
efficiency  amongst  the  many-doored 
cabinets  along  the  kitchen  wall,  was 
wonderful  for  summer;  it  and  the 
furnace  symbolized  the  success  and 
progress  the  Hirsches  had  made;  but 
the  range  symbolized  somehow  their 
simple,  happy  contentment  and  se- 
cure comfort. 

Waiting,  a  crisp  blue-flower-print- 
ed apron  tied  around  her  plump 
waist,  she  moved  serenely  back  and 


NOW  IS  A  MAN  GROWN 

forth  from  range  to  table,  peeking 
occasionally  into  the  oven  and  into 
the  covered  skillet  where  the  sau- 
sages lay  in  luscious  brownness. 
When  presently  she  heard  steps 
around  the  house  corner,  she 
beamed  and  briskened  and  began  to 
put  the  food  into  warmed  serving 
dishes. 

"Here  you  are,  Poppadee!  Just 
in  time  you  come,"  she  greeted  him. 

"I  smelled  it,  Mommadee.  It 
brought  me  by  the  nose/'  he  re- 
plied, chuckling.  His  arm  caressed 
her  shoulder  as  he  passed.  "Just 
let  me  wash  a  bit."  He  went  past 
the  linen  chest  and  through  the  lit- 
tle inside  hall  to  the  bathroom, 
shedding  his  denim  jacket  as  he 
called  back,  "I  see  we  have  a  Letter 
today." 

"Yes,  a  Letter  from  The  Boy. 
There's  something  else,  too,  Poppa- 
dee.   Didn't  you  see?" 

"M'm'm  .  .  .  ."  It  could  have 
been  a  question  or  an  assent,  the 
murmur  he  made  through  the 
swooshing  of  water  filling  the  wash- 
bowl. When  he  came  back  to  the 
kitchen  she  had  food  on  their  plates 
and  glasses  of  hot  tomato  juice  be- 
side them,  and  was  standing  by,  giv- 
ing the  table  a  last-minute  survey  to 
make  sure  everything  was  right. 

He  set  her  chair  for  her,  smiling 
at  her  rosiness  and  placid  cheer.  It 
was  the  smile  that  told  her,  each 
evening,  what  a  dear  good  wife  she 
was  and  how  lucky  he  was  to  have 
her  and  her  good  cooked  food  wait- 
ing for  him. 

"It  is  a  photograph,  the  big  one?" 
he  asked,  glancing  at  the  envelopes 
on  the  chest. 

"Yes,"  she  replied.  Eagerness 
brightened  her  tone  and  her  round 


17 

blue  eyes.  "Now  don't  hurry  your 
eating,  Poppadee,"  she  warned  him. 
"Is  plenty  of  time." 

"Sure,  I  know."  Blue  twinkles 
danced  between  them,  sparkling 
with  affection.  "You  be  careful, 
Mommadee.  Eat  slow.  Is  plenty 
of  time." 

This  was  their  way,  these  small 
jokes  at  each  other  to  make  time 
pass  faster,  on  the  occasions  when 
a  Letter  from  The  Boy  was  waiting 
to  be  read. 

UE  was  a  wonderful  son,  The  Boy, 
Herbert.  Once,  long  ago  in 
Holland,  there  had  been  another 
son  and  a  delightful  small  daughter; 
but  they  had  died  of  the  "flu"  after 
the  first  great  war,  and  the  Hirsches 
had  known  long,  sad,  lonely  years 
before  Herbert  came  to  them.  By 
that  time  they  had  learned  of  the 
gospel;  and  for  Herbert  they  sought 
the  better  life  America  offered.  For 
"The  Boy"  they  had  worked  hard 
to  build  a  new  home;  they  had 
learned  the  new  language,  the  new 
ways,  with  painstaking  care  and  pa- 
tience; they  had  been  successful  and 
happy.  The  Boy  had  gone  through 
high  school,  had  given  two  years  to 
the  service  of  his  country,  and  now 
was  at  college  learning  how  to  make 
his  dreams  come  true.    A  good  son. 

"There  are  two  photographs, 
Mommadee."  Puzzled,  Poppadee 
drew  them  from  the  envelope. 

"Now  why  would  there  be  two?" 
his  wife  wondered.  "Maybe  differ- 
ent —  no,  they  are  the  same.  One 
for  you,  one  for  me,  maybe?"  She 
was  thinking,  The  Boy  should  know 
that  one  would  be  enough;  big 
photographs  cost  money,  and  it  was 
not  like  him  to  spend  needless- 
ly ...  .  She  brought  her  mending 


18 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


basket  while  Poppadee  was  setting 
the  two  folders  up,  side  by  side  on 
the  table,  admiring  them.  They 
were  handsome  photographs;  The 
Boy's  round,  honest,  sober  face  with 
wide  clear  eyes,  a  pleasant  mouth, 
and  neatly  brushed  light  hair.  His 
tie  was  carefully  right,  his  handker- 
chief's corners  were  exact  tiny 
points  edging  the  coat  pocket. 
Nothing  fancy  or  arty  about  the 
pose;  it  was  just  a  good,  ordinary 
likeness  of  the  good,  ordinary,  seri- 
ous-minded young  fellow  who  was 
Herbert  Hirsch— The  Boy. 

The  Letter  began  just  as  all  The 
Boy's  letters  began:  "Dear  Momma- 
dee  and  Poppadee  —  I  have  not  got 
much  time  but  want  to  let  you 
know  I  am  well  and  hope  you  are 
the  same.  Everything  is  fine  with 
me.  We  had  some  tests  today;  I 
guess  I  won't  shine  but  I  got  by. 
Don't  worry  about  me,  I'm  fine  but 
I  will  sure  be  glad  to  come  home  at 
Thanksgiving  and  have  some  of 
Mommadee's  good  cooking.  My 
belt  fastens  two  notches  tighter,  but 
it  won't  take  long  to  fill  it  out 
again." 

Usually  there  would  be  no  more 
than  that.  But  this  time  there  was 
a  second  page,  and  as  Poppadee  read 
it  the  words  came  slower,  and  Mom- 
madee's hands  stopped  their  busy 
to-and-fro-ing  with  the  needle  and 
thread. 

"I  had  my  picture  taken,  had  two 
made  up,  and  I'm  sending  them  to 
you  today.  One  is  for  Gloria  Jean 
Steffens,  I  want  you  to  take  it  up 
to  her  because  then  I'll  be  sure  she 
got  it.  And  maybe  you  can  find  out 
why  she  hasn't  written  to  me  for 
so  long.  She  lives  at  3197  Elm 
Drive,  up  on  Normandie  Heights. 


This  is  very  important  to  me  and  I 
hope  you  can  take  care  of  it  right 
away.  I  guess  you  will  know  by 
this,  that  I  am  in  love  with  Gloria 
Jean,  and  it  makes  me  very  sad  and 
blue  when  I  don't  hear  from  her. 
Please  see  her  right  away  and  tell 
me  how  she  is.  Your  loving  son, 
Herbert." 

Carefully,  with  hands  that  trem- 
bled, Poppadee  refolded  the  Letter 
and  put  it  back  into  the  envelope. 
It  was  very  still  in  the  kitchen  now, 
so  that  a  coal  falling  inside  the  fire- 
box of  the  range  made  a  sudden, 
loud-seeming  thud.  Mommadee's 
plump  pink  fingers  moved  again, 
guiding  the  needle  in  and  out,  in 
and  out  of  the  cloth,  but  there  was 
a  lump  in  her  throat  so  that  no 
words  could  come  through,  even  if 
she  could  have  thought  of  words  to 
say. 

OOPPADEE  made  a  small  cough. 
"In  love,  he  says.  Is  real,  you 
think,  Mommadee?" 

Her  round  blue  eyes  met  his. 
"May  be.  The  Boy,  he  is  serious 
kind;  no  fooling  around." 

"Is  right.  No  fooling."  Poppa- 
dee's  voice  was  proud.  "Well,  we 
have  something  we  should  do  for 
The  Boy,  Mommadee.  Right  away, 
he  says."  He  looked  at  the  clock. 
"Seven  o'clock  is  plenty  time  we  go 
now,  no?" 

"Of  course."  Mommadee  stood 
up  briskly;  she  folded  the  cloth  and 
laid  it  back  into  the  basket.  "I 
should  put  on  my  better  dress,  I 
think;  and  you  should  wear  your 
good  suit,  Poppadee." 

Elm  Drive,  broad  and  clean  and 
curving  handsomely  around  a 
small  circular  park  bright  with 
chrysanthemums,  led  to  houses  that 


NOW  IS  A  MAN  GROWN 


19 


were  big  and  well-kept,  with  glimp- 
ses of  gardens  behind  them  and 
shiny  large  cars  standing  by.  Lights 
shone  everywhere,  as  if  night  were 
not  permitted  to  shadow  the  bright 
world  of  Elm  Drive. 

"Is  fine  people  here,  Poppadee," 
Lena  Hirsch  said  softly  as  they 
stopped  in  front  of  Number  3197. 
'The  Boy  makes  good  choice;  you 
think  so?" 

"The  Boy  is  fine,  himself;  like 
takes  to  like,"  Poppadee  responded, 
opening  the  car  door  for  her  and 
helping  her  out,  careful  of  the 
photograph  she  was  holding,  which 
she  had  rewrapped  in  white  tissue 
paper  and  tied  with  a  white  ribbon. 
Together,  they  started  up  to  the 
imposing  white-doored  entrance  of 
the  house. 

They  had  reached  the  top  step 
when  the  door  opened  suddenly  to 
eject  a  young  boy,  sixteen  perhaps, 
struggling  into  a  leather  jacket  as 
he  came  out.  He  stopped  to  look 
at  the  Hirsches  with  questioning 
eyes. 

"Good  evening,"  Poppadee  said. 
"We  come  to  see  Miss  Gloria  Jean 
Steffens,  please." 

"Sure;  she's  here.  Come  in."  The 
boy  stepped  back  into  an  entrance 
hall  all  soft  carpet  and  glowing  light 
wood,  and  called  up  the  stairs: 
"Hey,  Glor  —  come  down.  Some- 
body's to  see  you." 

"Tell  her,  is  Herbert  Hirsch's 
mother  and  father,"  Mommadee 
spoke  up  quickly. 

The  boy  stared  a  moment,  then 
called,  "It's  Herbie  Hirsch's  folks, 
Glor.  I'll  tell  'em  to  wait  —  I  gotta 
be  going,  myself." 

"Have  them  sit  down,"  came  a 
reply.    A  girl's  voice,  soft  but  hold- 


ing surprise  and  puzzlement.  "I'll 
come  as  soon  as  I  can." 

Side  by  side  in  a  deep-cushioned 
settee  they  waited.  Mommadee's 
hand  crept  into  Poppadee's. 

"Is  nice,  this,"  she  said.  "See 
how  beautiful,  Poppadee;  the  pic- 
tures, and  the  lamps  and  carp- 
ets ..  .  ." 

"All  nice.  Good  housekeeping 
here.  Good  living."  They  smiled 
at  each  other  with  tender  satisfac- 
tion. It  would  be  a  good  wife  who 
came  from  such  a  home. 

rPHEN  a  girl  was  coming  down- 
stairs. She  was  slender  and  all 
golden  —  goldenhaired,  golden- 
skinned,  amber-eyed,  and  sheathed 
in  a  slim  gown  of  gold  cloth.  A  gold 
necklace  and  matching  bracelets 
sparkled  with  diamond-bright  set- 
tings, and  gold  sandals  twinkled 
with  each  downward  step. 

The  waiting  couple  stood  up, 
awed. 

"Hello,"  the  girl  smiled  brightly. 
"Sorry  to  make  you  wait.  I— I  was 
dressing  ....  You're  Herbie's  folks, 
you  say?  I'm  happy  to  meet  you, 
I  really  am.  How  is  Herbie?"  She 
gave  them  each  a  cool  smooth  hand. 

"Is  wonderful  to  meet  you/" 
Mommadee  said  softly.  She  was  re- 
garding this  wondrous  girl  with 
shining  wide  eyes.  What  a  fine 
daughter  Herbert  had  chosen  to 
bring  her!  "The  Boy  has  told 
us " 

"Asked  us  to  come  to  see  you/' 
Poppadee  interrupted.  "To  bring 
you  something." 

"This!"  Mommadee  thrust  the 
package  into  Gloria  Jean's  surprised 
hands.  "Is  very  fine  picture  of 
Herbert,  for  you." 

"Why  —  why,  that's  kind  of  you 


20 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


—  to  bring  it  to  me."  Gloria  Jean 
seemed  suddenly  confused  and  all 
at  once  wordless.  She  untied  the 
ribbon  and  unfolded  the  tissue. 
"Why,  yes,  it  is  fine  —  very  nice, 
of  Herbert." 

They  beamed  at  her,  happily. 
Until  her  next  words  came,  reluc- 
tant and  hesitantly. 

"But  I  —  he  shouldn't  have  sent 
it  ....  I  mean,  I  can't  accept  it." 

"But  —  no?"  Poppadee  asked 
after  a  stunned,  silent  moment. 

"No.  You  see,  I'm  engaged;  I'm 
to  be  married  very  soon.  I  thought 
Herbie  knew;  everybody  knew,  I've 
had  an  understanding  with  Kent 
for  a  long,  long  time.  I  had  dates 
with  other  boys  until  a  few  weeks 
ago,  but  I  thought  they  all  under- 
stood how  it  was.  I'm  sorry  if 
Herbie  —  didn't." 

"He  —  did  not  speak  to  you  of 
his  love?"  Poppadee  questioned 
gently. 

Mommadee's  hands  clasped  them- 
selves tightly  together  over  her 
breasts. 

"No,  never."  Gloria  Jean  shook 
her  head;  her  eyes  were  clear  and 
honest.  "Of  course,  he's  such  a 
quiet  boy,  Herbie  is.  Shy.  He'd 
probably  find  it  awfully  hard  to  say 

—  words  like  that,  to  me.  Oh,  he's 
a  fine  boy;  truly  he  is  —  but  I'm 
sorry  if  he  fell  in  love  with  me.  Be- 
cause —  he's  not  the  one  I  love—" 

Silence  hovered  around,  thick 
with  their  unspoken  thoughts. 
Again  it  was  Poppadee  who  broke 
it:  "So  —  that  is  the  way  of  it.  Well, 
these  things  happen,  Miss  —  Miss 
Steffens  .  .  .  ." 

"Call  me  Glory,"  she  said.  "All 
my  friends  do." 

"Glory  .  .  ."  he  murmured.  "Is 
lovely  name;  is  like  you.     We  are 


proud    to    be    friends    with    you, 
Glory." 

"I'm  proud  to  be  friends  with 
you,  Mr.  Hirsch,  and  Mrs.  Hirsch," 
Glory  said.  "And  with  Herbie.  But 
you'll  excuse  me  if  I  don't  ask  you 
to  stay  now,  won't  you?  I  must  be 
ready  to  leave,  to  go  out  —  in  just 
a  few  minutes." 

"Of  course.  Mommadee  and  me, 
we  understand." 

"Mommadee  —  that's  cute!" 
Glory  said. 

"And  it  is  Poppadee,"  Momma- 
dee explained.  "The  Boy  —  Herb- 
ert _  try  to  say  'Mamma  dear'  and 
Tapa  dear'  when  he  was  learning  to 
talk  ....  So  always  we  keep  those 
names." 

"You're  a  darling,"  Glory  mur- 
mured. "Oh  —  you  must  take  this 
back  with  you."  Gently  she  put 
the  photograph  back  into  Momma- 
dee's  hand.  "You'll  want  it,  some- 
time." 

They  understood  perfectly  her 
meaning:  that  Herbert's  photo- 
graph, and  Herbert,  could  have  no 
place  in  her  life. 

QUTSIDE  again,  they  felt  older 
and  aware  that  their  clothes 
were  shabby  and  cheap  by  Elm 
Drive  standards;  they  saw  their  little 
old  car  as  small,  incongruous,  out- 
classed in  all  ways,  parked  beside 
the  curb  among  the  splendid  late- 
model  ones  here.  It  was  a  relief  to 
drive  away,  to  find  themselves  on 
the  older  streets  among  the  hetero- 
geneous traffic  that  was  the  whole 
city  rather  than  an  exclusive  section. 
It  was  greater  relief  still,  to  leave 
the  city,  entering  the  country  lanes 
and  quiet  acres  where  night  was 
deep-blue-blackness  sprinkled  only 
sparsely  with  street  lights  and  oc- 


NOW  IS  A  MAN  GROWN 

casional  porch  lamps  or  uncurtained 
windows  shining  out. 

All  the  way  they  were  silent,  their 
dismay  and  disappointment  heavy 
between  them.  Not  until  they  were 
at  home,  within  the  warm  comfort 
of  the  kitchen,  did  they  speak  what 
was  in  their  hearts. 

'The  Boy  —  he  wants  something 
we  cannot  get  for  him!"  Momma- 
dee  said  then.  "He  must  be  hurt 
....  and  .  .  ."  her  voice  rose  in  pro- 
test .  .  .  "is  nothing  we  can  do,  to 
make  it  right  for  him!"  She  shook 
out  her  handkerchief  to  wipe  away 
tears  which  would  no  longer  be  de- 
nied. Never  before,  she  was  think- 
ing, had  The  Boy  asked  something 
impossible.  Now  they  must  fail 
him,  his  Mommadee  and  Poppadee, 
in  the  most  important  desire  he  had 
expressed. 

Poppadee  came  to  help  her  out  of 
her  coat;  his  arms  lingered  at  her 
shoulders  in  a  gesture  of  comforting. 
"We  can  stand  by,  Mommadee. 
The  Boy  will  not  be  —  alone,  while 
he  needs  us.  That  is  something  we 
can  do.    Is  not  so?" 

"Not  —  enough!"  she  protested. 
"Almost  I  wish  he  was  a  child 
again,  happy  with  small  toys  —  and 
to  be  healed  his  bruises  with  kisses." 

"Shame  on  you,  Mommadee! 
Now  is  a  man  grown  from  our  son, 
and  you  would  keep  him  a  child!" 

She  smiled  at  him,  blinking.  "I 
only  said,  almost  I  wish  so,  Poppa- 
dee." 

"That,"  he  said,  "is  better.  Let 
the  tears  come  if  they  will;  they 
help  you,  my  Lena.  But  not  The 
Boy,  you  see." 

"The  tears  I  have  finished  with! 
But  my  heart  it  aches  for  The  Boy. 
Love  can  hurt  so  terribly  .  .  .  ." 
She   stood   back   suddenly,    looked 


21 

searchingly  into  his  gentle  gaze. 
"You  —  you  do  not  grieve  for  him, 
Gustaf!  How  is?" 

"Oh,  a  little,  Mommadee,"  he  an- 
swered. "There  is  no  need.  The 
Boy  will  be  all  right.  This  Gloria 
Jean  is  not  the  right  girl  for  him; 
you  will  see,  will  come  the  right 
one,  soon  maybe." 

"How  can  you  know  so  surely?" 
she  exclaimed.  "Sometimes  there 
is  only  one,  and  always  a  lonely 
heart  .  .  .  ." 

He  shook  his  head.  "No,"  he 
said  patiently.  "The  Boy  is  like  me. 
For  me  there  was  one  like  Gloria 
Jean;  a  burgomeister's  daughter,  she 
was.  The  hurt  —  oh,  it  was  soon 
over,  my  Lena." 

"So?  ....  You  never  told  me 
this,  Gustaf." 

"Pshaw,"  he  said.  "It  was  not 
important.  I  forgot  all  about  her, 
after  I  found  you,  my  Lena.  Only 
then,  did  I  know  truly  what  was 
love,  and  how  to  live.  Now  cease 
the  fretting,  Mommadee.  Every- 
thing will  be  fine." 

"...  Like  a  man  .  .  ."  she  mur- 
mured. Not  with  disapproval,  but 
gently  and  with  a  sort  of  wonder. 
She  started  about  the  business  of 
preparing  for  the  night;  she  would 
say  a  special  prayer  for  The  Boy, 
that  he  would  bear  his  hurt  bravely 
and  be  the  better  for  it  when  the 
new,  the  true  love,  came  along. 

Now  is  a  man  grown,  The  Boy, 
she  repeated  softly  to  herself.  When 
his  mother  and  father  can  no  longer 
fulfill  his  wishes  for  him,  cannot 
shield  him  from  hurts,  nor  cure 
them  with  their  love  and  kisses  like 
small-boy  bumps  .  .  .  Oh,  now  is  a 
man  grown  —  when  he  must  stand 
by  himself  with  life,  and  learn  what 
grown  men  know. 


cJne  xjl.  gen  tine    lllission 

Preston  Nibley 

TN  the  fall  of  1924,  Wilhelm  Fredricks  and  Emil  Hoppe,  members  of  the 
Church  from  Germany,  who  had  moved  to  Argentina,  wrote  to  the 
Church  Authorities  in  Salt  Lake  City,  asking  that  missionaries  be  sent  to 
Buenos  Aires,  as  there  were  a  number  of  converts  in  that  city  awaiting  bap- 
tism. 

In  September  1925,  announcement  was  made  by  the  First  Presidency 
that  Melvin  J.  Ballard  of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve  had  been  appointed 
to  open  a  mission  in  South  America,  and  that  he  would  proceed  to  Buenos 
Aires,  after  the  October  Conference,  accompanied  by  Rulon  S.  Wells  and 
Rey  L.  Pratt  of  the  First  Council  of  Seventy.  Elder  Wells  spoke  the  Ger- 
man language  and  Elder  Pratt  the  Spanish. 

The  above  named  brethren  arrived  in  Buenos  Aires  on  Sunday,  De- 
cember 6,  1925,  and  were  met  by  Brothers  Fredricks  and  Hoppe.  One  week 
later  Elder  Ballard  baptized  six  persons  in  the  Rio  de  la  Plata.  They  were 
''the  first  fruits  of  the  restored  Gospel  in  South  America."  On  December 
25,  1925  (Christmas  day)  the  three  brethren  from  Salt  Lake  City,  together 
with  eight  members  of  the  Church,  met  in  the  Park  3  De  Febrero  at 
Buenos  Aires,  and  Elder  Ballard  offered  a  prayer,  dedicating  the  land  of 
South  America  to  the  preaching  of  the  gospel. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Amy  Y.  Valentine 

1SCHILIN 
A  small  village  in  the  northern  part  of  the  Sierra  Chicas  (small  hills)  of  Cordoba, 
Argentina. 

Page  22 


THE  ARGENTINE  MISSION 


23 


Photograph  submitted  by  Amy  Y.  Valentine 

ENTRANCE  TO  THE  LUJAN  MUSEUM 
In  the  Province  of  Buenos  Aires,  Argentina 

Elder  Ballard  returned  to  Utah  in  1926  and  was  succeeded  by  Elder 
Reinhold  Stoof,  as  president  of  the  South  American  Mission,  with  head- 
quarters in  Buenos  Aires.  A  separate  mission  was  formed  in  Argentina  in 
1935,  with  W.  Ernest  Young  as  president.  He  was  succeeded  by  F.  S.  Wil- 
liams in  1938;  President  Williams  was  succeeded  by  James  L.  Barker  in 
1942;  President  Barker  was  succeeded  by  W.  Ernest  Young  in  1944.  Presi- 
dent Young  presided  until  1949,  and  was  succeeded  by  Harold  Brown  who 
presided  until  1952;  he  was  succeeded  by  Lee  B.  Valentine,  who  presides 
at  the  present  time.  There  are  now  twenty-nine  branches  of  the  Church 
in  Argentina  with  approximately  1,400  members.  Twenty-one  Relief  So- 
ciety organizations  were  reported  in  1954.  Amy  Y.  Valentine  is  now  presi- 
dent of  the  Argentine  Mission  Relief  Society. 


The  Living  Gifts 

Dorothy  Boys  Kilian 


KICK  Extrom  stood  at  the 
front  window  looking  gloom- 
'  ily  out  past  the  bare  black 
trees  and  the  snowy  slope  to  the 
silent  sawmill  on  the  river  bank. 

"If  I  could  only  get  a  few  odd 
jobs  somewhere/'  he  sighed,  "so  I 
could  pick  up  a  little  extra  cash." 

His  wife,  Greta,  came  in  from  the 
adjoining  kitchen,  broom  in  hand, 
and  laid  a  warm  hand  on  his  arm. 
"I  know  what  you're  thinking, 
Rick,"  she  said  softly.  "But  you 
mustn't  to-ture  yourself  because  we 
don't  have  money  for  Pete's  Christ- 
mas presents  this  year.  He  knows 
that,  with  the  mill  closed  down 
temporarily,  it's  a  hard  winter  for 
all  of  us." 

Rick  turned  unhappy  eyes  to  her. 
"Maybe  he  knows,  yes,  Greta,  but 
you  can't  expect  a  five-year-old  real- 
ly to  understand  an  empty  stock- 
ing  .  .  .  . 

"Tosh,  it  won't  be  empty,"  Greta 
protested.  "There's  that  bushel 
basket  of  Winesaps  we  got  from  the 
lodge  orchard,  and  the  nuts  you 
gathered  along  Old  Mill  Road.  And 
I'm  going  to  bake  gingerbread  men 
tonight,  such  nice,  plump,  big 
ones  .  .  .  ."  Her  voice  trembled  to 
a  stop. 

"Greta,  don't!"  Rick  groaned. 
"I'd  almost  feel  better  if  you'd 
whack  me  over  the  head  with  that 
broom,  for  being  such  a  fool." 

"I  don't  happen  to  think  you  are 
a  fool,  Mr.  Extrom  .  .  .  else  why 
would  I  have  married  you?"  Greta 
returned  with  spirit. 

Rick  grinned  and   squeezed  her 

24 


hand.  "You  know  what  I  mean, 
though,"  he  insisted.  "If  I  hadn't 
been  such  a  pighead  about  staying 
here  in  Woodville  when  Uncle  Gus 
offered  me  that  janitor's  job  in 
Chicago  .  .  .  ." 

"You  said  you'd  rather  stay  in  the 
village  where  we've  always  lived, 
you  and  I,  Rick,  and  where  we  know 
how,  with  the  Lord's  help,  to  bring 
up  our  boy  to  be  a  fine,  strong  man. 
You  said,"  Greta  reminded  him, 
"that  with  your  job  as  caretaker  for 
the  lodge,  we'd  probably  get  along 
better  and  be  happier  than  with  a 
full-time  job  in  the  city,  living  in 
a  tiny,  dark  apartment  .  .  .  ." 

"Oh,  sure,"  Rick  interrupted,  "I 
had  fine,  brave  ideas.  But  it  wasn't 
Christmas  Eve  then." 

"Since  when  is  Christmas  Eve  a 
time  to  stop  being  fine  and  brave?" 
Greta  asked  indignantly.  "You  go 
along  now,  Rick,  before  it  gets  dark. 
Take  Pete's  sled  and  get  that  fir 
they  promised  you  from  the  lodge 
grounds.  At  least  the  boy '11  have 
a  tree  .  .  .  and  maybe  something 
more."  She  looked  over  at  the  little 
wooden  creche  figures  carefully  set 
up  on  the  living-room  table.  "Some- 
how," she  said,  smiling  at  her  hus- 
band, "it's  just  not  in  me  to  feel 
hopeless  about  anything  on  Christ- 
mas Eve." 

AS  Rick  strode  down  the  lane  to- 
wards the  lodge,  the  crunch, 
crunch  of  his  boots  on  the  hard- 
packed  snow  seemed  to  be  saying 
"fool— fool— soft-hearted  fool  .  .  .  ." 
He   knew   that   it   wasn't   just   for 


THE  LIVING  GIFTS 


25 


Pete's  sake  that  he'd  stayed  on  here. 
It  was  also  because  he  loved  the 
sound  of  the  river-wind  sighing,  as 
it  was  now,  through  the  pines,  loved 
the  glittering  beauty  of  white  fields 
touched  by  the  slanting  rays  of  the 
late  afternoon  sun,  would  miss, 
painfully,  the  quiet  peacefulness  of 
a  man  alone  on  a  road  in  his  very 
own  countryside  .... 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
opened  the  gates  of  the  lodge 
grounds.  Through  the  trees  he 
saw  the  building  itself  ablaze  with 
lights  as  the  December  day  drew  in. 
Several  families,  he  knew,  had  come 
up  with  their  children  for  a  country 
holiday.  What  would  Peter  think 
tomorrow  when  he  saw  the  elab- 
orate gifts  those  youngsters  would 
surely  receive! 

Well,  he'd  at  least  have  a  Christ- 
mas tree;  the  grove  behind  the  lodge 
needed  thinning.  Rick  picked  up 
the  axe  from  the  sled  and  looked 
around  him.  Deciding  on  a  shape- 
ly balsam  fir  about  his  own  height, 
he  began,  with  his  foot,  to  scrape 
the  snow  away  from  the  base  of  its 
trunk.  Then  he  pulled  the  mitten 
off  his  right  hand  and  ran  his  fingers 
carefully  along  the  blade  of  the  axe. 

As  he  raised  the  gleaming  tool  to 
swing,  and  faced  the  tree  directly, 
he  stared  at  its  lustrous  green  need- 
les, its  dark  purple  cones  standing 
erect  like  candles  on  its  upper 
branches.  Then,  in  a  flash,  he  saw 
that  same  tree  a  month  from  now, 
lying  forlornly  on  the  ash  heap  by 
the  back  fence,  brittle,  brown,  life- 
less. Slowly  he  lowered  the  axe, 
laid  it  on  the  sled  and  scuffed  off 
through  the  grove  to  get  a  shovel 
from  the  shed  back  of  the  lodge. 

It  took  some  time  to  get  the  fir 


on  to  the  sled  in  just  the  condition 
he  wanted  it;  the  sun  had  now  gone 
down  and  the  winter  dusk  was  rap- 
idly turning  to  night. 

Just  as  he  was  ready  to  leave,  he 
heard  a  rustling  sound  nearby.  Peer- 
ing through  the  gloom  he  saw  a 
rabbit  huddled  under  a  bush,  its 
eyes  glazed  with  fear,,  one  hind  leg 
stretched  out  unnaturally  straight. 
Apparently,  it  had  gotten  loose  from 
a  trap,  with  a  broken  leg. 

"DICK  himself  had  often  snared 
rabbits.  But,  somehow,  this 
was  different  ...  it  was  Christmas 
Eve,  and  the  little  animal  had  made 
a  brave  escape.  Tenderly  and  care- 
fully, he  picked  it  up  and  tucked  it 
under  one  arm.  Then,  pulling  the 
sled  rope  with  his  other  hand,  he 
started  home. 

At  the  bend  of  the  road,  near  the 
river,  a  gray  shadow  crossed  his  path, 
then  stopped  at  his  feet.  A  tiny, 
thin  kitten,  meowing  piteously, 
rubbed  its  back  against  his  boots. 

"You  been  deserted  on  a  cold 
night  like  this?"  Rick  asked  softly. 
He  hesitated  a  moment,  then 
dropped  the  sled  rope  and  scooped 
the  furry  little  thing  up  into  his 
jacket  pocket. 

The  lights  of  his  own  cottage, 
usually  so  warm  and  beckoning, 
this  time  only  reminded  him  of  his 
problem.  As  he  opened  the  kitchen 
door  he  sniffed  the  fresh,  tangy  odor 
of  newly  popped  corn.  That  would 
be  Greta  preparing  trimmings  for 
the  tree.  She  never  failed  to  do  her 
part.  If  only  he  might  have  come 
through  with  something  .... 

"I  got  the  tree  all  right,"  he  said, 
standing  motionless  on  the  gray  and 
red  braided  rug  just  inside  the  door. 
"And  see,"  he  looked  down  ruefully 


26 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


at  the  animals,  "two  more  mouths 
to  feed.  Don't  bother  to  say  it,  I 
know  I'm  hopeless." 

"They  won't  eat  much,"  Greta 
said  lightly,  putting  an  old  towel 
down  behind  the  wood  stove  for  the 
kitten  to  cuddle  on. 

She  stayed  on  her  knees  for  a 
long  moment,  gently  stroking  the 
tiny  animal's  back.  When  she  got 
up  she  said  eagerly,  "Did  Peter  see 
you  when  you  came  in  just  now?" 

"No,  why?" 

"Rick,"  Greta's  eyes  were  shining, 
"do  you  realize  what's  happened?" 

"WAIT  LL  you  see  what  l  §otr 

Rick  heard  Peter  shout  ex- 
citedly late  Christmas  morning  as 
he  brought  two  little  boys  from  the 
lodge  out  into  the  kitchen. 

"What'd  you  get?"  the  boys 
echoed. 

"Present  number  one,"  crowed 
Peter,  pointing  behind  the  stove 
where  the  kitten,  with  a  huge,  slight- 
ly chewed,  red  bow  around  its  neck, 
slumbered  peacefully. 

The  boys  stooped  down  to  pat  the 
cuddly  little  animal,  but  Peter  was 
already  at  the  back  door.  "Come 
on,"  he  called  impatiently,  "this  way 
for  number  two." 

He  led  the  way  out  to  the  back 
porch  where  stood  a  wooden  cage 
made   from   two  apple  crates  and 


some  wire  screen.  Dozing  contented- 
ly in  a  corner,  a  splint  tied  with  red 
and  green  ribbon  to  one  hind  leg, 
a  carrot  between  its  front  paws, 
was  the  rabbit. 

"Boy!"  Peter's  friends  breathed  in 
unison. 

"Even  our  Christmas  tree  is 
alive,"  Peter  finished  exultantly. 
"Come  look." 

Rick  followed  the  children  into 
the  living  room  and  looked  with 
them  at  the  little  fir  set  in  a  wash- 
tub  full  of  dirt,  its  cones  touched 
with  silver  paint,  its  branches  deco- 
rated with  red  cranberry  chains  and 
dazzling  white  popcorn  balls. 

"We're  going  to  plant  it  out  in 
the  front  yard  next  week,  so  we'll 
have  it  always,"  Peter  explained  hap- 
pily. "See  what  I  meant  when  I 
told  you  I  had  a  very  special  Christ- 
mas this  year?  A  living  Christmas, 
that's  what  Mommy  called  it." 

Rick  moved  close  to  Greta,  who 
was  standing  by  the  table,  smilingly 
fingering  the  little  figures  at  the 
creche. 

"Peter's  right,"  he  said  gratefully. 
"This  was  your  idea." 

"But  it  was  you  who  brought 
home  these  things,"  Greta  an- 
swered warmly.  "See  what  Christ- 
mas Eve  brings  to  people  with  soft, 
foolish  hearts!" 


W 


eavtng 


Miriam  W.  Wright 

The  tapestry  of  truth  brightens  with  time, 
For  threads  of  truth  endure.  Hands  should  define 
And  cast  aside  the  skeins  which  weave  so  soon 
A  fabric  of  deceit. 
Guard  well  thy  loom. 


Willard  Luce 


DEER  CREEK  RESERVOIR,  UTAH 
With  Mount  Timpanogos  in  the  Background 


71 


ew    years   \jjay 

Christie  Lund  Coles 


(Da, 


The  breaking  day  is  luminous  and  bright 

As  the  New  Year  gilding  the  horizon's  rim; 

And  all  the  snowy  earth  is  touched  with  light, 

As  diamonds  sparkle  on  each  furry  limb; 

The  slender  icicles  are  crystal  clear, 

As  they  catch  and  hold  the  sequins  wrought  by  sun; 

The  arch  of  sky  is  after-snow-storm  near. 

The  snow  is  webbed,  and  delicately  spun. 

What  an  exultant  morning,  what  a  day, 
What  an  expectant  hour  to  start  again, 
With  bounteous  nature  heralding  the  way, 
Transmuting  all  to  beauty  and  to  gain. 

Gone  is  the  night,  the  sorrow  of  the  past. 

The  New  Year  dawns.  Oh,  hold  its  promise  fast! 


Page  27 


Swiss  cJemple  cJable  ^Arrangement 

Yale  Second  Ward,  Bonneville  Stake 

Inez  R.  Allen 

npHERE  is  always  joy  and  happiness  when  it  is  again  time  to  c@mmence  our  Relief 
■1    Society  activities.     Every  member  comes  ready  and  willing  to  help  with  the  opening 
social. 


Hal  Rumel 

TABLE  DECORATION  WITH  THE  SWISS  TEMPLE  AS  MOTIF 


Our  Heavenly  Father  has  so  generously  distributed  his  gifts  and  talents  among 
us  that  great  things  may  be  accomplished  if  we  but  try.  At  our  opening  social  last 
September,  the  air  was  full  of  news  and  reports  of  the  European  trip  of  the  Tabernacle 
Choir.     For  this  reason  we  chose  as  our  theme:  "The  Temple  in  Switzerland." 

Sister  Emma  Ray  Riggs  McKay  who  had  just  returned  from  the  dedication  of 
the  new  temple,  graciously  accepted  the  invitation  to  be  our  guest  speaker.  It  was  as 
if  a  mother  were  speaking  to  her  own  family  of  daughters,  and  we  loved  her  for  it. 

To  create  the  atmosphere  of  Switzerland,  three  lovely  Swiss  dolls,  dressed  in  cos- 
tume, were  placed  among  roses  and  fern  by  the  side  of  the  pulpit.  To  the  left  was 
displayed  the  red  and  white  national  flag  of  that  country,  while  our  own  Stars  and 
Stripes  proudly  reigned  over  the  whole  picture. 

Displaying  the  two  flags  seemed  to  bring  about  a  feeling  of  unity  between  the  two 

Page  28 


SWISS  TEMPLE  TABLE  ARRANGEMENT  29 

countries.  The  musical  program  correlated  with  the  theme  and  seemed  to  transport  us 
to  Switzerland. 

After  the  program,  refreshments  were  served  in  the  amusement  hall. 

The  above  picture  was  the  center  of  the  serving  table,  and  as  Sister  McKay  ap- 
proached she  exclaimed,  "The  Temple!"  The  cake  in  the  shape  of  the  temple  was 
made  of  delicious  white  cake  with  pineapple  filling.  Brother  Martin  Backer  made  and 
donated  it  to  our  Relief  Society.  Small  geranium  blossoms  were  used  to  represent  the 
flower  gardens,  while  shrubs  and  real  grass  finished  the  landscape. 

The  two  adjoining  tables  from  which  tasty  refreshments  were  served,  finished  the 
picture. 

When  each  member  does  her  bit  to  help  and  is  generous  in  donating,  everything 
moves  along  harmoniously  and  with  little  expense.  The  cake  was  well  preserved  and 
kept  until  the  next  Tuesday  when  it  was  cut  and  served  to  all  the  members. 


[Recipes   from    Jtrgentina 

Keith  F.  Thompson 

Tuco  (Sauce) 

For  serving  with  spaghetti,  tallarines,  and  pastries. 

Proportions  may  be  varied  to  suit  individual  taste.     Simmering  of  the  sauce  should 
begin  three  to  four  hours  before  serving  time,  as  long  simmering  improves  the  flavor. 

3  or  more  pork  chops  (according  to  number  to  be  served).     Brown  the  chops  in 
butter  or  other  fat  and  cook  until  nearly  done. 
Place  pork  chops  in  kettle  and  add: 

1  small  onion  2  small  tomatoes  peeled 

i  medium-sized  carrot  lA  tsp.  nutmeg 

Vi  green  pepper  i  Vi  tsp.  salt 

3  cloves  of  garlic  !4  tsp.  white  pepper 

When  the  mixture  has  simmered  until  it  becomes  thickened,  add: 

i       six-ounce  can  tomato  paste 

2/4    c.  water 
Continue  simmering  until  time  for  serving,  three  to  four  hours  in  all. 

Tallarines 

To  be  served  with  Tuco  (Sauce) 

Mix  together: 

i  c.  white  flour 

1  egg 

Vz   tsp.  salt 

Add  enough  water  to  knead  into  a  dough  like  pie  crust. 
Potatoes,  butter,  or  milk  may  be  added  to  suit  taste. 
Roll  out  on  board  and  cut  into  narrow  strips  like  spaghetti. 

Place  strips  in  boiling  water,  salted  to  taste,  and  boil  fifteen  to  twenty  minutes, 
according  to  size  of  strips. 


Sixty    LJears  S/igo 


Excerpts  From  the  Woman's  Exponent,  January  1,  and  January  15,  1896 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  all  Nations" 

THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY  IN  BUNKERVILLE,  NEVADA:  On  the  23rd  of 
Nov.,  we  left  for  Bunkerville,  crossing  the  Rio  Virgin  a  great  number  of  times.  When 
we  were  nearing  Bunkerville,  the  braces  on  our  carriage  tongue  broke  and  left  us  in  the 
river;  through  the  kindness  of  our  esteemed  friend  George  F.  Jarvis,  we  were  carried 
out  and  landed  on  terra  firma  ....  We  met  with  the  Relief  Society  sisters.  They  own 
a  lot  containing  an  almond  orchard  also  a  granary,  and  something  over  a  hundred  bush- 
els of  wheat.  We  advised  them  to  make  what  improvements  they  could  and  turn 
their  almonds  into  grain,  and  store  it  against  the  time  of  need  .... 

— Ann  C.  Woodbury 

TO  MRS.  ZINA  D.  H.  YOUNG 

(on  Her  Birthday) 

From  ev'ry  saint  that  dwelleth  here, 
From  saints  that  long  this  land  to  see, 
This  day  is  wafted  heavenward 
Remembrances  and  prayers  for  thee. 
From  weary  march  and  roofless  camp 
Unto  the  temples  famed  and  grand 
Thy  feet  trod  first  the  barrenness 
And  to  His  houses  lent  thy  hand. 

— Augusta  Joyce  Crocheron 

WOMAN'S  SUFFRAGE  ASSOCIATION:  The  W.S.A.  of  Parowan  held  an 
exultation  meeting  the  evening  of  the  seventh.  It  was  a  general  time  of  rejoicing.  The 
house  was  filled  to  o'er  flowing  as  it  generally  is  at  the  meetings  of  the  W.S.A.  The 
room  was  neatly  decorated  for  the  occasion.  After  the  opening  exercises  yellow  ribbon 
badges  were  passed  to  all  present.  The  program  consisted  of  speeches,  songs,  music 
from  the  orchestra  and  band.    Many  were  called  on  for  sentiments  or  expressions  of  their 

feelings  on  this  joyful  occasion  (the  granting  of  statehood  to  Utah) 

—J.  M.  L. 

DYING,  YET  LIVING 

After  seasons  of  storm-cloud  and  sunshine 
Close  the  year  with  unerring  pace, 
The  traces  of  pleasure  or  trial 
Are  written  on  mind,  heart  and  face. 
Again  we  pause  for  a  reckoning — 
Contrition,  and  solemn  resolve; 
Sweet  conscience  silently  beckoning 
While  many  new  plans  we  evolve, 
That  will  chasten,  uplift,  and  inspire 
To  feelings  more  pure  and  divine  .  .  . 
— E.  R.  Shipp 

Page  30 


Woman's  Sphere 


Ramona  W.  Cannon 


HTHE  women  of  the  Philippines 
are  extraordinarily  progressive. 
Usually  the  business  managers  in 
their  households,  they  are  often  also 
joint  managers  with  their  husbands, 
of  business  enterprises.  The  percent- 
age of  women  physicians,  surgeons, 
dentists,  pharmacists,  lawyers,  and 
professors  is  much  higher  than  in 
the  United  States.  In  the  College 
of  Liberal  Arts,  University  of  the 
Philippines,  thirty-five  per  cent  of 
the  faculty  are  women— a  three  or 
four  times  higher  percentage  than 
in  most  co-educational  institutions 
in  the  United  States.  Although  it 
was  1937  before  female  suffrage 
came  to  the  Philippines,  two-fifths 
of  the  voters  in  1953  were  women. 

A  LICIA  PATTERSON,  publish- 
er of  Long  Island's  Newsday,  is 
a  brilliant  journalist.  She  represents 
the  fourth  generation  of  the  Medill, 
Patterson,  McCormick  journalistic 
dynasty.  Stormy  Colonel  Robert  R. 
McCormick,  recently  deceased,  and 
his  cousin,  Joseph  Patterson,  pub- 
lished the  Chicago  Tribune  upon 
the  death  of  their  famous  grand- 
father, Joseph  Medill,  a  great 
journalist.  "Bazy"  Miller  Tankers- 
ley,  former  Washington  Times-Her- 
ald editor,  another  woman-of-the- 
family  newspaper  star,  is  a  niece  of 
Colonel  McCormick. 


MRS.  PANSY  H.  POWELL,  of 
Salt  Lake  City,  a  frequent  con- 
tributor to  The  Relief  Society  Mag- 
azine, has  been  awarded  first  place 
in  a  recent  national  contest  of  the 
American  Poetry  League,  with  the 
poem  "Greenwich:  1390  a.d." 

jyt RS.  AGNES  JUST  REID,  long 
a  contributor  to  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine,  is  one  of  twenty- 
five  women  photographed  and 
quoted  in  Lite  Magazine  (October 
3,  1955)  as  responding  to  Anne 
Morrow  Lindbergh's  philosophy,  ex- 
pressed in  her  recent  book,  Gift 
from  the  Sea.  Each  explains  her 
own  method  of  finding  inner  peace 
and   satisfaction. 

Birthday  congratulations  are  ex- 
tended to:  Mrs.  Emma  Bandley, 
Salt  Lake  Cify,  one  hundred;  Mrs. 
Eliza  Drake  McManus,  Ogden, 
Utah,  one  hundred;  Mrs.  Janet  Bu- 
chanan Evans,  Salt  Lake  City, 
ninety-three;  Mrs.  Mary  Ann  Reese, 
Paragonah,  Utah,  ninety-three;  Mrs. 
Annie  M.  Whitehead,  Logan,  Utah, 
ninety-two;  Mrs.  Mary  Eliza  James, 
Phoenix,  Arizona,  ninety-two;  Mrs. 
Stene  Christiansen  Jensen,  Salt 
Lake  City,  ninety-one;  Mrs.  Agnes 
Power  Vincent,  Salt  Lake  City, 
ninety;  Mrs.  Carrie  A.  Niccolls, 
Phoenix,  Arizona,  ninety;  Mrs. 
Mary  Ellen  McElroy  Hawthorne, 
Salt  Lake  City,  ninety. 

Page  31 


EDITORIAL 


VOL.   43 


JANUARY   1956 


NO.   1 


(greetings  for  the    I Lew    LJear 


CXNCE  more  we  greet  the  dawn  of 
a  New  Year.  Another  page  of 
our  life  history,  filled  with  the 
events  of  everyday  living,  is  ready  to 
be  turned.  Let  us  review  the  page 
of  life  written  this  past  year,  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  stock  of  ourselves 
and  our  possessions,  to  determine  if 
we  have  been  wise  stewards,  and  to 
aid  us  in  our  resolve  to  do  better  in 
the  coming  year. 

What  of  ourselves?  Have  we 
been  what  we  professed  to  be?  Have 
we  been  what  people  thought  we 
were?  Were  we  true  to  God,  true 
to  our  fellow  men,  true  to  ourselves? 
Are  we  satisfied  with  what  we  have 
accomplished  in  the  year  just  gone? 

What  of  our  possessions?  Have 
we  expended  our  means  profitably 
in  assisting  to  build  the  kingdom  of 
God?  Have  we  treasured  our  time 
and  sanctified  it  in  service  to  our 
fellow  men?  Have  our  talents  been 
left  unused,  or  have  they  increased 
because  we  have  used  them  for  the 
benefit  and  blessing  of  others?  Have 
we  hidden  away  or  selfishly  used 
that  which  has  been  conferred  upon 
us,  thus  deserving  to  have  with- 
drawn that  which  was  entrusted  to 
us,  or  have  we  been  wise  stewards 
and  profitable  servants,  deserving  of 
additional  blessings?  Only  the  Be- 
stower  of  our  gifts,  can  judge. 

Page  32 


Let  us  turn  the  leaf.  Before  us 
lies  a  clean,  new  page,  ready  to  re- 
ceive whatever  record  we  choose  to 
make.  How  full  of  promise  it  ap- 
pears, for  most  of  us  are  prospective- 
ly good  at  the  beginning  of  the  year! 
We  enjoin  ourselves  to  reform  from 
our  bad  habits  of  the  past,  and  we 
determine  to  take  upon  ourselves  a 
multitude  of  new  virtues.  It  is  well 
to  aspire,  to  make  good  resolutions, 
but  we  should  bear  in  mind  that  no 
matter  how  earnestly  we  resolve,  we 
cannot  overcome  well-established 
habits  merely  by  resolving  to  do  so. 
Neither  can  we  remake  ourselves 
overnight. 

So,  in  making  our  resolutions  this 
New  Year,  let  us  be  sure  that  they 
are  such  as  we  can  keep,  overcoming 
our  faults  one  at  a  time,  improving 
here  a  little,  there  a  little,  one  step 
at  a  time,  until  we  approach  the 
goal  set  by  the  Savior  when  he  said, 
"Be  ye  therefore  perfect."  Only 
with  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  can  we 
attain  that  goal,  so  let  us,  above  all 
else,  resolve  to  seek  earnestly  for  the 
spirit  of  the  Lord,  that  we  may 
write  upon  this  year's  page  of  life  a 
history  of  achievement  better  than 
we  have  been  able  to  do  in  any  prev- 
ious year,  earning  from  our  Father 
in  heaven  the  plaudit,  "Well  and 
faithfully  done." 

-V.  N.  S. 


SJn    1 1 iemortam  —  ibmeline    LJoung    I tebeker 

I^MELINE  Young  Nebeker,  former  member  of  the  general  board  of 
Relief  Society,  died  Monday,  November  7th,  in  New  York  City.  Sister 
Nebeker,  a  resident  of  Salt  Lake  City,  had  recently  returned  from  Europe 
and  was  visiting  with  her  daughter,  Mrs.  Sam  D.  (Emeline)  Thurman. 
Funeral  services  for  Sister  Nebeker  were  conducted  in  the  Twelfth  Ward, 
University  Stake,  Salt  Lake  City,  November  12,  1955. 

Emeline  Young  Nebeker  was  born  September  27,  1875,  a  daughter  of 
Hyrum  S.  and  Georgiana  Fox  Young,  and  was  a  granddaughter  of  Brigham 
Young.  She  was  married  to  Walter  D.  Nebeker  in  1900,  and  became  the 
mother  of  two  children:  W.  Dilworth  Nebeker  and  Emeline  Nebeker 
Thurman. 

Sister  Nebeker  faithfully  served  the  Church  for  many  years  in  the 
Primary,  the  Young  Woman's  Mutual  Improvement  Association,  and  in 
Relief  Society.  She  became  a  member  of  the  general  board  of  Relief  So- 
ciety in  1929  and  served  with  outstanding  ability  until  1939.  Gifted  with 
the  qualities  of  gracious  leadership,  she  was  beloved  by  Relief  Society  wom- 
en throughout  the  Church,  and  her  inspirational  addresses  will  long  be 
remembered.  Generous  with  her  time  and  talents,  she  discharged  with 
exceptional  ability  many  civic  and  community  responsibilities.  Her  kind 
ministrations  were  a  blessing  to  her  family  and  her  friends,  and  the  ex- 
ample of  her  'works  of  compassion  and  charity"  are  as  a  memorial  to  her 
sisters  in  Relief  Society.    She  is  remembered  with  love  and  appreciation. 

Covers  of  the  [Relief  Society    lllagazine    vis  ill  creature 

lllissions  v^Jutsiae  Continental    LLnitea  States 

Beginning  with  the  cover  for  this  issue,  "Mountain  Vista  in  the  Na- 
tional Park  Near  Bariloche,  by  the  Nahuel  Huapi  Lake,  Argentina,"  The 
Relief  Society  Magazine  will  feature  covers  from  the  missions  of  the 
Church  outside  the  continental  United  States.  Short  histories  of  the 
respective  missions  will  be  presented  in  connection  with  the  covers.  Note 
the  summarized  history  of  the  Argentine  Mission  on  page  22  of  this  issue, 
and  the  "Recipes  From  Argentina,"  on  page  29. 

/lew  Serial    cJhere  0/5  Still  cJime    to   [Begin 

in  QJeoruary 

Anew  serial  "There  Is  Still  Time"  by  Margery  S.  Stewart  will  begin  in  the  February 
issue  of  The  ReHef  Society  Magazine.  The  story  concerns  a  strange  dream  which 
has  a  significant  meaning  for  Elizabeth  Anderson,  her  husband  Brent,  and  their  children. 
Only  after  the  patten  «~f  t^eir  lives  has  been  greatly  changed  does  Elizabeth  realize 
abiding  joy  in  their  family  life. 

Margery  S.  Stewart  has  written  several  serials,  many  short  stories,  and  a  number  of 
excellent  poems  for  the  Magazine.  Her  work  reveals  a  most  careful  selection  and  use  of 
words  and  vivid  character  portrayal. 

Page  33 


TloicA, 

TO  THE  FIELD 


IRelief  Society  J/Lssigned  (overling    1 1  Lee  ting  of 
CJast  Sunday  in    ft  larch 

nPHE  Sunday  night  meeting  to  be  held  on  Fast  Day,  March  4,  1956,  has 
again  been  assigned  by  the  First  Presidency  for  use  by  the  Relief 
Society. 

Suggestive  plans  for  this  evening  meeting  have  been  prepared  by  the 
general  board  and  sent  to  the  stakes  in  bulletin  form. 

It  is  suggested  that  ward  Relief  Society  presidents  confer  with  their 
bishops  immediately  to  arrange  for  this  meeting.  Music  for  the  Singing 
Mothers  should  be  ordered  at  once. 

JLesson    vi/ork  for  Spanish-Speaking  [Relief  Societies 
ana   Kyther    1 1 linonty   (groups  in  Stakes 

OELIEF  Society  lessons  for  Spanish-speaking  Relief  Societies  are  now 

translated  at  Church  Headquarters  and  printed  in  pamphlet  form. 
These  pamphlets  are  on  sale  at  The  Relief  Society  General  Board  Office, 
40  North  Main  Street,  for  64  cents  per  copy,  postpaid. 

The  pamphlet  contains  theology  and  visiting  teacher  messages  used 
in  the  English-speaking  wards  in  1954-55;  the  second  year  of  The  Restora- 
tion of  All  Things,  by  President  Joseph  Fielding  Smith,  in  lieu  of  the  litera- 
ture course;  and  the  third  year  of  The  Signs  of  the  Times  by  President 
Joseph  Fielding  Smith  in  lieu  of  the  social  science  course. 

For  Lamanite  organizations  in  stakes  which  do  not  follow  the  outlined 
courses  presented  in  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  and  which  do  not  speak 
Spanish,  these  same  lessons  may  be  followed  through  writing  to  the  gen- 
eral board  for  the  annual  previews  in  English  to  The  Restoration  of  All 
Things  and  The  Signs  of  the  Times. 

Where  it  is  felt  that  these  lessons  are  not  suitable  for  minority  groups, 
then  it  is  left  to  the  good  judgment  of  each  Relief  Society  stake  board,  in 
consultation  with  the  stake  president,  to  choose  and  plan  lessons  which 
will  be  particularly  suited  to  a  particular  group.  Where  a  stake  Relief 
Society  has  a  collection  of  volumes  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine,  it  is 
usually  possible  to  find  suitable  lesson  work  through  a  careful  evaluation 
of  past  lessons  which  will  have  significance  in  the  lives  of  these  sisters,  since 

Page  34 


NOTES  TO  THE  FIELD  35 

Relief  Society  lessons  published  over  the  years  have  dealt  with  a  great 
variety  of  subject  matter  prepared  for  use  in  both  stake  and  mission  organ- 
izations. 

KjLvoara  Subscriptions  ^Presented  in  ^yLpril 

HTHE  award  subscriptions  presented  to  Magazine  representatives  for  hav- 
ing obtained  75  per  cent  or  more  subscriptions  to  the  Magazine  in  re- 
lation to  their  enrolled  Relief  Society  members,  are  not  awarded  until 
after  the  stake  Magazine  representatives'  annual  reports  have  been  audited. 
Award  cards  for  these  subscriptions  for  the  year  1955  will  be  mailed  to 
ward  and  stake  Magazine  representatives  about  April  1,  1956. 

{Bound   volumes  of  1Q55  IRelief  Society    f/Lagazines 

"DELIEF  Society  officers  and  members  who  wish  to  have  their  1955 
issues  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  bound  may  do  so  through  The 
Deseret  News  Press,  31  Richards  Street,  Salt  Lake  City,  1,  Utah.  The 
cost  for  binding  the  twelve  issues  in  a  permanent  cloth  binding  is  $2.50, 
including  the  index.  If  a  leather  binding  is  preferred,  the  cost  is  $3.50. 
See  schedules  of  postage  rates  in  this  issue  of  the  Magazine,  page  72.  If 
bound  volumes  are  desired,  and  the  Magazine  cannot  be  supplied  by  the 
person  making  the  request,  the  Magazines  will  be  supplied  for  $1.50  by  the 
Magazine  Department,  General  Board  of  Relief  Society,  40  North  Main 
Street,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah.  Only  a  limited  number  of  Magazines  are 
available  for  binding. 

It  is  recommended  that  wards  and  stakes  have  one  volume  of  the  1955 
Magazines  bound  for  preservation  in  ward  and  stake  Relief  Society  li- 
braries. 


isLt    1 1 lidnight,    ^Juecember  Q/hirtu-first 

Katherine  F.  Larsen 

White  in  the  chime-begun  year 

Snow  swirls  incessantly,  silently  there 

Beyond  the  glass,  covering  mistakes,  softening  harsh  fact 

To  make  an  ideal  world.     Lean  on  my  shoulder,  dear, 

Let  us  look  together  out  into  the  whorl  of  storm. 

If  I  have  in  that  spent  year  of  days 

Done  other  than  I  should  have,  or  in  any  act 

Or  word  offended,  let  your  forgiveness  cover  it 

As  does  this  snow  all  bleakness,  all  raw  forms. 

Take  my  hand;  let  us  begin  as  if  over  again, 

Telling  each  other  silently  by  our  nearness 

How  far  we  have  come,  together; 

And  how  our  hearth's  fire  we  knelt  and  lit  together, 

Tongues  of  fire  crackling  at  our  backs, 

And  warming. 


Sf(, 


o\v  to 


Sell 


cJhe  IKelief  Society    1 1 lagaztne 
Dr.  Royal  L.  Garff 

Professor  of  Speech  and  Selling,  University  of  Utah 


THERE  is  a  rule  that  sharply 
separates  the  order  taker 
from  the  salesman.  It  em- 
phasizes that  the  order  taker  "sells 
only  things/7  while  the  "creative 
salesman  sells  ideas  about  things'— 
ideas  that  make  for  health,  educa- 
tion, happiness,  income,  and  se- 
curity. 

An  order  taker  for  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine  would  merely  ask 
the  sisters  to  subscribe  as  a  duty,  a 
favor,  or  to  help  them  get  a  per- 
centage, by  saying,  "You  wouldn't 
like  to  take  The  Relief  Society  Mag- 
azine, would  you?" 

The  Relief  Society  Magazine,  like 
all  good  products,  has  to  be  sold,  if 
an  acceptable  circulation  is  to  be 
achieved;  and  those  imaginative, 
energetic  sisters  who  sell  it  will  sell 
not  a  magazine,  but  its  value  of 
knowledge,  culture,  and  spirituality. 
They  will  sell  pleasant  hours  and 
the  value  of  building  character  and 
a  home,  and  the  joy  of  developing 
the  talents  of  children.  They  will 
show  how  the  Magazine  contains 
material  for  two-and-a-half  minute 
talks  and  priceless  ideas  and  helps 
on  home-building  and  life-building. 
They  will  take  carefully  chosen 
copies  of  the  Magazine  along  with 
them  as  they  work  for  subscrip- 
tions, and  point  out  specific  articles, 
poems,  and  choice  bits  that  every 
sister  will  desire  to  possess.  They 
will  show  how  these  treasures  may 
be  had  for  less  than  fifteen  cents  a 
month — the  price  of  an  ice-cream 

Page  36 


cone  or  a  couple  of  pieces  of  candy. 
They  will  paint  pictures  of  benefits, 
advantages,  and  values  in  the  mind 
of  the  subscriber  that  will  greatly 
exceed  the  price. 

Why  do  we  need  salespersons  for 
so  fine  a  publication?  Because  peo- 
ple do  not  see  what  they  look  at. 
They  see  an  expenditure  of  careful- 
ly saved  money  or  just  so  much  type 
and  paper.  The  desire  to  subscribe 
develops  onlv  when  the  features  of 
the  Magazine  are  pictured  as  bene- 
fits by  a  sincere,  cheerful,  enthusias- 
tic, and  persuasive  salesperson. 

To  do  a  topflight  job  of  selling 
your  excellent  Magazine,  excel  in 
these  suggestions: 

i.  Get  to  work  at  once  and  see  all  your 
prospects  immediately  —  don't  delay  or 
proceed  hit  or  miss.  Pitch  in,  anticipate 
success,  banish  discouragement  and  a  nega- 
tive attitude,  radiate  enthusiasm  and  joy 
in  the  work.     And  do  it  now! 

2.  When  people  hesitate  and  refuse  to 
subscribe,  ask  "Why?"  Find  out  the 
real  objection.  Then,  answer  it  in  a 
pleasant,  calm  manner.  Use  facts,  testi- 
monials, and  brief  stories  that  show  how 
and  why  those  who  subscribe  benefit. 
Under  no  circumstances  get  into  an  argu- 
ment. 

When  you  have  completed  your 
presentation  of  the  benefits  to  be 
enjoyed  from  subscribing,  when  you 
have  taken  the  dark  glasses  from 
your  prospect's  eyes  and  enabled  her 
to  see  what  she  will  lose  if  she  de- 
prives herself  of  the  Magazine,  sug- 
gest that  she  subscribe  now!     And 


HOW  TO  SELL  THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 


37 


give  her  a  choice  between  two  al- 
ternatives, either  of  which  will  re- 
sult in  a  subscription.  Don't  ask 
her  to  choose  between  something 
and  nothing.  Help  her  decide  not 
between  subscribing  or  not  subscrib- 
ing, but  between  such  alternatives 
as: 

Should  the  subscription  begin  with  next 
month's  issue  or  the  following  one? 


Should  the  subscription  come  in  the 
name  of  Mrs.  Frank  Smith  or  Mrs.  Ruth 
Smith?  and  so  on. 

Apply  these  simple  principles  of 
good  salesmanship  and  observe  how 
much  easier  the  work  of  getting 
subscriptions  is— and  how  greatly 
your  subscribers  increase,  and  with 
less  effort. 

Now,  go  to  work,  and  have  fun! 


[Polio  Usn  t  JLicked    Ljet 


Basil  O'Connor 

President,  The  National  Foundation  for  Infantile  Paralysis 

Many  people  mistakenly  believe  that,  now  that  we  have  an  effective  polio  vaccine, 
the  fight  against  the  disease  is  over  and  there  is  no  further  need  for  the  March  of  Dimes. 

Polio  Isn't  Licked  Yet.  This  theme  of  the  1956  March  of  Dimes  seeks  to  drive 
home  the  fact  that  the  fight  against  polio  must  continue  unabated  even  though  a  March 
of  Dimes  vaccine  has  been  developed,  tested,  and  administered  to  several  million  children. 

Polio  Isn't  Licked  Yet.  Why?  Because  we  cannot  forget  the  polio  victims  of  yes- 
terday, today,  and,  yes,  tomorrow  ....  Because  vital  March  of  Dimes  research  must 
continue  ....  Because  the  training  of  desperately  needed  medical  and  scientific  people 
must  go  on  until  polio  is  really  licked. 

Polio  Isn't  Licked  Yet.  But  the  reading  and  listening  habits  of  this  busy  nation  are 
such  that  the  phrase  Salk  vaccine  automatically  means  to  many  that  the  end  of  polio  is 
already  with  us.  Of  course,  no  success  comes  this  quickly  and  it  would  be  a  desperate 
tragedy  if  true  success  were  delayed  by  such  a  misconception. 

Polio  challenges  still  confronting  the  American  people  include: 

1.  Continued  scientific  research  to  improve  the  vaccine  and  to  find  ways  to  over- 
come crippling  left  bv  the  disease  itself. 

2.  Assistance  to  the  tens  of  thousands  of  persons  already  stricken  with  polio  and 
to  those  who  will  come  down  with  the  disease  before  the  vaccine  is  universally  used. 

3.  Professional  education  to  increase  the  number  of  skilled  heads  and  hands  in  polio 
hospitals  and  laboratories. 

4.  Education  to  increase  public  demand  for  polio  protection. 

In  all  candor,  continued  progress  toward  the  eventual  control  of  polio  can  proceed 
at  full  speed  only  if  people  realize  that  we  still  have  a  long  way  to  go.  And  even  as  I 
thank  you  for  all  your  past  cooperation,  I  appeal  to  you  anew  to  throw  your  full  support 
behind  the  1956  March  of  Dimes. 


The  Closed  Circle 

Beatrice  Rordame  Parsons 


EIGHT-year-old  Kenny  came 
rushing  into  the  kitchen 
from  outdoors.  His  galoshes 
dripped  messily  on  Sybil's  newly 
scrubbed  linoleum.  His  face  was 
alight  with  eagerness. 

''Can  we  buy  a  Christmas  tree? 
They've  got  'em  in  over  at  the 
store!  Can  we  .  .  .  Mother?"  There 
was  a  tiny,  uncertain  pause  before 
the  word. 

Sybil's  heart  twisted.  She  wasn't 
the  children's  mother.  Not  their 
real  mother.  But  she  so  wanted  to 
be.  Not  that  she  wanted  to  take 
their  mother's  place  in  their  hearts. 
She  only  wanted  to  earn  a  love  of 
her  own. 

Kenny  was  already  on  his  way 
into  the  living  room.  'Til  ask 
Daddy,"  cried  Kenny,  and  in  an- 
other moment  Sybil  heard  his  voice 
urging  his  father  to  buy  a  tree  be- 
fore they  were  all  picked  over. 

Sybil  shivered  with  sudden  cold, 
knowing  what  Paul  was  about  to 
tell  the  children.  He'd  called  them 
all  into  the  living  room  to  tell 
them.  Yet  Sybil  knew  how  reluc- 
tant he  was  to  speak. 

Dan  and  Danielle,  Paul's  sixteen- 
year-old  twins  were  making  gay 
plans  for  the  holidays. 

"Ski-ing!"  laughed  Danielle,  and 
through  the  archway  Sybil  could 
see  her  blue  eyes  brighten  as  she 
tossed  her  shining  blond  hair  back 
from  her  face. 

"Skating!"  shouted  Dan,  and  his 
eyes  matched  his  sister's.  His  blond 
hair  was  cut  into  a  very  short  crew, 
and  his  long  legs  moved  like  pis- 
tons as  he  walked  about  the  room. 

Page  38 


Twelve-year-old  Elna  had  other 
plans.  "I'm  going  to  all  the  mov- 
ies! With  Helen.  We've  got  a 
crush  on  Boyd  Lawson.  He's 
smooth!" 

Kenny  tugged  at  his  father's 
sleeve.  "Can  we  buy  a  tree?  Can 
we?" 

Paul's  face  was  pale,  tense  as  he 
sat  in  his  wheel  chair,  the  cast  he 
was  wearing  heavy  and  uncomfort- 
able about  his  body.  His  voice  was 
strained. 

"Before  we  talk  about  the  tree, 
Kenny,  there's  something  I  want  to 
discuss."  His  voice  was  low,  and 
Sybil  could  not  hear  the  exact 
words. 

But  she  knew  them  by  heart.  She 
and  Paul  had  talked  it  over  that 
very  afternoon.  Paul  hated  to  dash 
his  children's  plans,  but  Paul  wasn't 
a  man  to  shirk  his  duty.  He  was  a 
commercial  airline  pilot.  An  acci- 
dent had  put  him  in  the  hospital 
for  weeks,  then  at  home  in  a  wheel 
chair  and  cast.  Paul  was  worried 
with  expenses.  Now  that  his  tone 
was  less  muffled,  she  could  hear 
what  he  was  saying. 

"It's  not  that  we're  broke.  Just 
bent.  My  accident  wasn't  entirely 
covered  by  my  insurance.  You 
know  how  I  feel  about  debt.  I  can't 
afford  to  send  Dan  and  Danielle  to 
Brighton  for  the  Christmas  Holi- 
days .  .  .  ." 

Kenny  broke  in  shrilly:  "Can't 
we  have  a  tree?" 

Paul's  smile  tried  to  reassure 
them.  "Of  course  we'll  have  a 
tree.    And  a  merry  Christmas!" 

"Without      presents?"     insisted 


THE  CLOSED  CIRCLE 


39 


Kenny,  and  his  voice  sounded  hol- 
low. 

"A  few,"  promised  Paul,  and  his 
own  voice  sounded  strange. 

pLNA'S  face  was  stricken.  "But 
I  was  planning!  .  .  ."  She  was 
close  to  tears.  "Oh,  Daddy,  isn't 
there  some  way  we  can  have  all  the 
things  we  want?" 

Paul  shook  his  head  slowly.  "Not 
this  Christmas,  darling."  He  burst 
out:  "It  makes  me  feel  .  .  .  ."  He 
skipped  that  and  said  quietly: 
"Maybe  there  is  a  way.  All  of  you 
worked  at  odd  jobs  during  the  sum- 
mer   " 

"You  mean  our  piggy  banks!" 
squealed  Elna,  rushing  to  hug  him 
in  spite  of  the  cast. 

Kenny's  shout  was  triumphant. 
"Then  I  can  still  buy  my  'lectric 
train." 

Elna's  face  was  wreathed  in 
smiles.  "Just  oodles  of  skirts  and 
blouses  for  my  money!" 

Dan  and  Danielle  caught  the 
spirit.  Danielle  said  laughingly: 
"That  blue  frock  in  Rogers'  win- 
dow. Warren's  taking  me  to  the 
Christmas  Prom.  He  thinks  I  look 
keen  in  blue!" 

Dan  spread  his  legs  wide  apart, 
and  his  eyes  sparkled.  "I'll  bet  I've 
enough  for  a  down  payment  on  that 
sweet  little  chassis  over  on  the  used 
car  lot." 

Kenny  squealed:  "Let's  put  to- 
gether and  buy  the  biggest  tree  at 
the  grocery  store."  His  face  fell, 
and  he  said  uncertainlv:  "What 
about  Christmas  dinner?  Are  we 
going  to  have  a  turkey?*" 

Paul  smiled.  He  saw  Sybil  stand- 
ing quietly  in  the  background. 
"Your  mother  will  see  to  the  tur- 


key," he  promised.  He  put  out  his 
hand  to  draw  Sybil  into  the  circle. 
It  widened.  But  it  didn't  close. 
Sybil  sat  at  Paul's  side,  and  knew 
that  she  had  spoiled  things  once 
again.  For  a  moment  no  one  spoke. 
Then  Kenny  headed  for  the  kitchen 
with  his  piggy  bank. 

"Where's  the  hammer?"  He 
shouted,  and  the  others  went  to 
help  him  find  it.  There  was  the 
loud  sound  of  shattered  plaster, 
laughter,  as  nickles,  pennies,  and 
quarters  spilled  over  the  kitchen 
table. 

Paul  put  out  his  good  arm  and 
pulled  Sybil  closer.  He  was  very 
relieved.  "Well,  that's  over,"  he 
said,  and  let  his  breath  out  in  a  big 
sigh. 

Sybil  leaned  her  head  against  his 
arm.  She  loved  him  too  deeply  to 
remind  him  that  the  children  had 
acted  very  selfishly. 

Not  a  word  about  gifts  for  each 
other,  for  their  father,  for  Sybil. 
They  had  thought  only  of  what 
they  wanted.  She  hoped  Paul 
wouldn't  see.  Her  voice  was  gay, 
excited. 

"We'll  have  lots  of  packages  un- 
der the  tree,  Paul.  I'll  talk  with 
the  children.  Make  plans.  I  can 
sew."  She  was  as  excited  as  a  child, 
and  her  brown  eyes  glowed  happily. 

Paul  put  his  lips  tenderly  against 
her  warm  cheek  and  kissed  her.  His 
own  eyes  were  shining  happily  as 
he  told  her:  "The  doctor's  promised 
I'll  be  out  of  this  cast  in  time  to 
help  trim  the  tree." 

Like  Elna,  she  hugged  him  ferv- 
ently, laughing  because  his  cast  was 
so  unyielding.  Tears  and  stars  were 
mixed  together  in  her  eyes,  and  her 
voice  was  gentle. 


40 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


"Oh,  Paul!  Merry  Christmas! 
Having  you  well  and  strong  again  is 
all  the  Christmas  I  want." 

She  giggled  a  little,  and  forgave 
the  children.  She  was  being  selfish, 
too. 

A  couple  of  days  later  when  the 
children  came  tramping  through 
the  snow  after  school,  they  went 
straight  to  the  living  room  for  a 
conference  with  their  father.  Sybil, 
knowing  that  she  did  not  belong, 
stayed  quietly  in  the  background, 
reading  her  magazine. 

But  she  could  not  fail  to  hear, 
for  Elna's  tone  was  shrill,  stricken. 

"Oh,  Daddy!  I  can  only  buy  one 
skirt,  and  one  blouse  with  my  piggy 
bank!" 

Danielle  sounded  just  as  miser- 
able. "I  can't  afford  that  blue 
dress."  She  bit  her  lip,  then  burst 
out  furiously:  "I've  told  Warren 
I'm  not  going  to  the  Prom.  I'd 
rather  die  than  be  seen  in  my  old 
green  dress." 

Kenny's  lip  trembled.  "That 
'lectric  train  costs  more'n  I've  got." 

Dan  paced  the  room,  not  looking 
at  his  father.  "The  man  at  the 
used  car  lot  says  you'll  have  to  sign 
the  contract,  Dad." 

Sybil  saw  how  tense  and  strained 
Paul  looked.  Yet  he  lifted  his  head 
and  spoke  quietly. 

"I'm  sorry.  It's  against  my  prin- 
ciples to  go  into  debt."  When  they 
would  have  interrupted,  each  in- 
tent on  his  or  her  own  problem, 
Paul  lifted  trembling  hands,  and 
spoke  soberly:  "We'll  all  just  have 
to  make  the  best  of  it." 

"The  bestr  cried  Elna,  then 
burst  into  tears  and  rushed  away  to 
her  room.  The  others  followed  si- 
lently. 


Sybil  crept  close  to  Paul's  wheel 
chair.  She  tried  to  make  her  voice 
light,  unworried  as  she  said:  "Paul, 
darling,  I've  got  a  little  money- 
saved.  I  meant  to  use  it  to  send 
for  my  mother  and  father.  They've 
never  met  you  or  the  children.  I 
wanted  them  for  Christmas  .  .  ." 
her  voice  wobbled,  but  she  made  it 
firm  and  added:  "maybe  I  can  send 
for  them  next  year." 

She  saw  Paul's  hands  turning  and 
twisting  in  his  lap.  She  knew  how 
helpless  he  felt.  She  wanted  to 
help  him.  She  put  her  own  hands 
over  his  and  said  with  a  tender 
smile:  "I'll  tell  the  children  right 
this  minute."  Before  he  could  pre- 
vent her,  she  was  on  her  way  up- 
stairs. 

As  usual  all  of  them  were  in 
Danielle's  room,  for  it  was  biggest, 
and  boasted  more  chairs.  The  door 
was  closed,  and  the  children's  voices 
rose  and  fell  behind  it.  When  Sybil 
knocked,  the  voices  stopped,  and 
when  Danielle  opened  the  door, 
Sybil  knew  just  how  unwelcome  she 
really  was. 

Her  legs  trembled  a  little  as  she 
stepped  inside.  She  hated  herself 
for  feeling  shy  and  tongue-tied  be- 
fore Paul's  children.  But  from  the 
first  —  three  months  ago  —  they 
had  built  a  wall  against  her.  Not 
that  they  were  rude.  Unkind.  Just 
that  they  were  strangers.  As  she 
was  a  stranger  in  their  home.  They 
resented  her  intrusion. 

Danielle's  voice  was  quietly  un- 
interested. "Did  you  want  some- 
thing .  .  .  Mother?" 

The  word  tagged  along.  Not 
with  any  desire  to  hurt.  But  as  an 
afterthought.  From  the  first  Sybil 
had  wanted  the  children  to  think 


THE  CLOSED  CIRCLE 


41 


of  her  as  a  sort  of  second  mother. 
She  hadn't  wanted  to  take  anything 
from  Paul's  first  wife.  Lula  had 
been  the  children's  mother.  Paul's 
first  love.  She  belonged  in  this 
house.  In  all  their  hearts.  Sybil, 
shy,  retiring,  had  never  wanted  to 
usurp  her  place.  If  only  she  could 
make  the  children  know. 

OUT  she  found  a  lump  in  her 
throat  as  she  tried  to  speak,  and 
instead  of  telling  of  her  mother  and 
father,  she  tried  to  make  them  in- 
terested in  the  plans  she  had 
formed.  She  made  her  voice  gay, 
excited,  but  deep  inside  she  was 
shaking  with  pain  and  loneliness. 

"I've  a  little  money.  My  very 
own.  I  thought  perhaps  you'd  let 
me  put  it  with  what  you  have 
and  .... " 

She  stopped.  They  were  staring 
at  her  with  cold  suspicion.  As 
though  she  might  be  trying  to  buy 
herself  a  place  in  their  lives.  She 
hurried  on,  stammering  a  little,  be- 
cause her  shyness  had  made  her 
cheeks  too  pink. 

"I'd  like  to  sew  for  Elna  and 
Danielle.  Remnants  at  Rogers' 
aren't  too  awfully  expensive.  Blous- 
es can  be  made  out  of  very  little 
material.  Perhaps  I  can  copy  that 
frock " 

She  could  not  go  on  in  the  face 
of  their  unresponsive  stares.  She 
managed  something  light,  foolish, 
before  she  withdrew  and  closed  the 
door.  Though  Paul  called  to  her, 
she  did  not  go  back  downstairs  for 
a  little  while. 

She  had  to  have  time  to  compose 
herself.  Even  scold  herself  for  be- 
ing presumptuous.  Instead  of  mak- 
ing the  children  happier,  she  had 


made  them  uncomfortable.  Instead 
of  drawing  the  children  closer,  she 
had  pushed  them  further  away. 

Yet,  she  couldn't  abandon  her 
plans.  There  was  a  certain  stub- 
bornness, a  deep  desire  to  make  the 
children  love  her,  that  made  her  tell 
Paul  what  she  had  in  her  mind. 

She  hoped  he  would  not  find 
traces  of  her  tears  in  her  voice  as 
they  sat  together,  side  by  side, 
hands  clasped,  happy  in  their  com- 
panionship. She  swallowed  pain- 
fully, but  she  made  herself  speak. 

"I'm  going  to  give  the  children  a 
nice  Christmas,  Paul.  I  know  how 
they  feel.  Kenny's  just  a  baby  .  .  ." 
she  broke  off,  seeing  the  wistful 
frown  on  Paul's  face. 

He  spoke  almost  angrily.  "Sybil, 
if  I  could,  I'd  give  him  the  biggest, 
longest  train  that  ever  wheeled  a 
track."  His  voice  failed,  he  lifted 
his  pale  hands  in  a  helpless  little 
gesture  that  twisted  Sybil's  heart. 

She  couldn't  bother  Paul  further 
with  her  plans.  She  couldn't  let 
him  know  how  the  desire  to  be  a 
real  part  of  the  family  was  churn- 
ing within  her.  She  pretended  to 
be  busy  with  her  grocery  list.  She 
wrote:  Turkey,  and  found  Paul 
grinning  down  at  her. 

"Don't  forget  stuffin,' "  he  re- 
minded her  teasingly,  and  when  he 
took  away  her  pencil  and  kissed  her, 
she  felt  better. 

"Paul,"  she  said,  returning  his 
kiss,  "even  in  that  wheel  chair 
you're  my  pillar  of  strength." 

His  smile  was  one-sided.  He  con- 
fessed: "I'm  just  a  phony,  darling. 
Deep  down  inside  I'm  scared.  But 
I  know  how  blessed  I  am  to  have 
you.    And  the  children." 

Her  smile  was  tender.  "Darling, 


42 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


a  man  is  twice  blessed  if  he  know's 
he's  blessed/' 

npiIE  next  morning  Sybil  was  first 
down  to  the  kitchen.  Someone 
—  she  suspected  Kenny  —  had 
ringed  the  25th  with  bright  red 
crayon.  It  gave  her  hope  until  the 
children  assembled.  A  dark  curtain 
of  gloom  hung  over  the  table  as  she 
served  breakfast,  went  to  take  Paul 
his  tray. 

As  she  came  back  into  the  kitch- 
en, she  heard  Dan  say  angrily: 
"Lately,  everything's  come  un- 
glued!  Things  were  all  right  un- 
til   " 

Sybil's  fingers  flew  to  her  ears  so 
that  she  might  not  hear  the  end  of 
the  sentence.  She  realized  that  in 
some  obscure  way  the  children  were 
blaming  her  for  spoiling  Christmas. 

She  stood  there  in  the  hallway, 
leaning  weakly  against  the  wall, 
while  she  looked  at  the  situation  as 
the  children  saw  it.  They  had  been 
happy  with  their  father  after  their 
mother  died.  Just  having  him 
there,  close,  dependable,  had  eased 
the  pain  of  their  loss.  For  over  a 
year  the  little  family  had  been  a 
unit. 

Then  Paul  and  Sybil  had  met. 
Paul  had  flown  a  cargo  into  the 
city  where  Sybil  worked.  They  had 
met  when  he  came  to  her  office. 
He  had  come  several  times.  And 
on  his  last  visit  he  had  asked  her  to 
have  dinner  with  him  before  he  re- 
turned home. 

Over  white  linen  and  gleaming 
silver,  Paul  had  talked  of  his  home 
and  children.  Of  Lula.  Sybil  had 
known  his  loneliness.  His  need  for 
a  woman's  understanding  and  love. 
Yet,  when  he  came  again,  and  asked 
her  to  marry  him,  she  had  not  said 


yes.  There  were  Paul's  children. 
All  of  them  big  enough  to  remem- 
ber their  dear  mother.  All  of  them 
old  enough  to  resent  another  wom- 
an's presence  in  the  home. 

When  Paul  went  away,  Sybil 
knew  how  much  she  loved  him. 
When  he  came  back  with  an  in- 
sistent question,  she  accepted  eager- 
ly. After  their  temple  marriage,  and 
a  short  honeymoon,  they  had  flown 
to  Paul's  home. 

Home!  How  Sybil  had  dreamed 
of  going  home  with  Paul.  Of  shar- 
ing that  home  with  Paul's  children. 
But  the  children  had  shut  her  away. 
They  were  fine  people  —  Paul's 
young  brood.  They  were  not  de- 
liberately impolite.  But  the  wall 
they  raised  between  themselves  and 
Sybil  was  insurmountable.  Paul  did 
not  guess,  nor  know.  Sybil  did  not 
tell  him.  She  knew  how  hurt  he 
would  be. 

She  tucked  her  secret  pain  deep 
in  her  heart,  and  knew  she  was  pre- 
tending that  everything  would  turn 
out  all  right.  Now,  as  she  stood 
there,  her  fingers  pressing  her  ears 
so  that  she  could  not  hear,  she  knew 
that  in  some  odd  way  Paul's  chil- 
dren were  packaging  all  their  disap- 
pointments about  Christmas  with 
the  fact  that  Sybil  was  part  of  the 
cause  for  their  unhappiness. 

When  she  stepped  back  into  the 
kitchen  with  its  tangy  smell  of  crisp 
bacon  and  browned  toast,  her  face 
was  pale  and  strained,  but  the  chil- 
dren paid  her  small  attention.  Taut 
nerves  showed  in  the  way  they  bick- 
ered with  each  other. 

Danielle  said  sharply:  "Those 
fingernails,  Dan!  They  look  like 
you've  been  cleaning  chimneys!" 

He  gave  her  a  scathing  glance, 


THE  CLOSED  CIRCLE 

and  said,  too  sweetly:  "All  the  bet- 
ter for  Santa  Claus!" 

"Well,  he's  not  coming  down  our 
chimney/'  cried  Kenny  darkly. 
"Once  we  used  to  get  lots  of  gifts. 
Our  stockings  used  to  be  stuffed 
with  candy,  oranges,  and  nuts!" 

"Nuts!"  Dan  said  the  word  deep 
under  his  breath.  But  it  did  not 
lose  any  of  the  bitterness  that 
burned  in  Dan's  heart.  That  car 
had  been  the  dream  of  his  young 
life.  Like  every  other  going-on- 
seventeen-year-old  fellow,  Dan  need- 
ed that  chassis.  No  wonder  his 
world  had  come  unglued! 
''THERE  were  unshed  tears  behind 
Sybil's  lashes  as  she  washed  the 
breakfast  dishes  after  the  children 
had  left  for  school. 

She  kept  thinking  of  Kenny's 
train.  An  ad  she  had  read  in  the 
newspaper  popped  into  her  mind: 
"Buy  now,  pay  next  year/"  Maybe 
she  could  talk  to  Paul  about  it.  But 
she  was  sure  he  would  not  approve. 
Paul  hated  to  be  in  debt,  and  there 
were  plenty  of  doctor's  and  hospital 
bills  to  be  settled  by  the  first  of  the 
year. 

She  thought  about  the  savings 
bonds  she  had  bought  before  she 
and  Paul  were  married.  From  the 
first  Paul  had  refused  to  touch  them, 
saying  that  they  were  hers.  She  had 
wanted  to  share  her  possessions  and 
had  had  them  made  out  in  his 
name,  too.  They  were  hoarding 
them  for  an  emergency. 

Sybil  swished  the  dishcloth  angri- 
ly through  her  detergent  suds  and 
mumbled  loudly,  "If  this  isn't  an 
emergency  I  don't  know  what  is!" 

Paul,  hearing  her  voice,  called  out 
from  the  living  room  to  know  if 
she'd  been  talking  to  him. 

She  answered  laughingly,  "To  my- 


43 

self,  darling.  Just  grumbling 
through  my  long,  white  beard!" 
Here  she  was,  anxious  to  become 
Santa  Claus,  and  she  was  complete- 
ly stumped  as  to  how  to  go  about 
it. 

While  Paul  read,  she  sat  at  her 
desk  and  got  out  her  budget  book 
and  her  grocery  list.  Her  pretty 
forehead  was  concentrated  into  a 
deep  frown  as  she  went  through 
her  list  trying  to  see  if  there  wasn't 
some  way  she  could  economize. 

"Well  have  hamburgers  and  meat 
loaf  every  dinner  until  Christmas," 
she  declared,  waving  her  list. 
OAUL  looked  up  from  his  book 
and  said  emphatically:  "I  like 
hamburgers.  Those  meat  loaves 
you  dream  up  are  better  than  roast 
pheasant." 

Sybil  laughed.  Then  she  said 
hesitantly:  "Paul,  do  you  mind?  .  .  . 
I  mean  .  .  .  will  it  be  all  right  if  I 
sort  of  juggle  my  budget?  As  long 
as  I  can  see  our  way  clear,  do  you 
mind  if  I  sort  of  .  .  .  ?" 

Paul's  grin  interrupted  her. 
"You're  the  banker.  I  don't  mind 
you  shuffling  the  budget.  I  trust 
your  good  judgment."  His  eyes 
were  on  his  book,  as  he  said  very 
quietly:  "Sybil,  if  you're  thinking 
about  the  children,  and  Christmas, 
I  love  you  for  it.  But  no  one  can 
buy  the  real  deep-down  spirit  of 
Christmas." 

Her  flush  was  so  fiery  that  she  hid 
her  face  as  she  checked  her  list.  Paul 
had  guessed  how  she  felt,  how  im- 
portant it  was  for  her  to  find  her 
way  into  the  children's  hearts.  Yet 
he  continued  slowly,  "I've  nothing 
against  giving  presents.  The  Wise 
Men  traveled  to  Bethlehem  to  make 
gifts  to  their  King.  But  there  was 
a  great  deal  more  to  their  journey 


44 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


than  that.  They  went  carrying  gifts 
which  were  only  the  outward  glitter 
for  the  true  meaning  of  what  they 
carried  in  their  hearts.  I  know  the 
children  are  selfish.  Perhaps  it's  my 
fault.    Perhaps    Fve   spoiled   them 


•  •  •  • 


She  wouldn't  let  him  blame  him- 
self. She  cried  miserably:  "It's  not 
your  fault,  darling.  It's  mine.  I 
want  them  to  love  me.  But  I  don't 
know  how.  That's  why  I  want 
them  to  have  the  sort  of  Christmas 
they've  always  had." 

Even  as  she  said  it,  she  knew 
how  .  .  .  yes,  cheap  ...  it  sounded, 
trying  to  buy  love  with  presents. 

Paul  shook  his  head  solemnly. 
"It  won't  hurt  them  to  go  without 
just  this  once.  Perhaps  this  will 
help  teach  them  the  true  meaning 
of  the  season.  I  have  hopes  that 
they  know  what  is  right." 

"Perhaps  .  .  ."  agreed  Sybil  faint- 
ly. But  deep  inside  she  couldn't  be 
sure.  It  wasn't  only  Christmas,  or 
the  lack  of  gifts  that  made -Paul's 
children  seem  selfish,  hard,  and  cold 
towards  her.  There  was  a  much 
deeper  reason.  Sybil  knew  until 
Paul's  children  wanted  her  love, 
even  Paul's  quiet  reasoning  couldn't 
make  them  give  their  love  to  her. 

^HAT  evening  when  Paul  and  the 
children  formed  their  usual  close 
little  circle  in  the  living  room,  Sybil 
pretended  to  be  very  busy  in  the 
kitchen.  Their  voices  were  faint 
threads  of  sound  as  they  talked  and 
talked.  She  wished  fervently  that 
they'd  need  her,  that  they'd  call  her 
into  the  room. 

But  when  they  finished  talking  to 
Paul,  all  of  them  went  upstairs  to 
bed.    Paul  told  her  that  he  had  ex- 


plained about  her  mother  and  fa- 
ther, and  she  busied  herself  with 
helping  him  get  ready  for  the  night 
so  that  he  would  not  see  traces  of 
disappointment  in  her  eyes. 

"You  wouldn't  like  to  change 
your  mind,  Sybil?"  asked  Paul, 
when  she  kissed  him  goodnight,  but 
she  shook  her  head  and  tried  to  an- 
swer without  a  quiver. 

"Maybe,  next  Christmas,  Paul. 
I've  written  mother,  and  I'm  sure 
she'll  understand."  She  folded  a 
blanket,  and  said  brightly:  "I'm  go- 
ing shopping  in  the  morning,  Paul. 
I  want  to  have  a  good  look  at  that 
blue  frock.  I  know  how  disappoint- 
ed Danielle  is  about  the  dance.  I'm 
going  to  try  to  copy  it."  She  added 
with  a  little  smile:  "I  love  to  sew." 

It  had  snowed  during  the  night, 
and  when  Sybil  waved  to  Paul  as 
she  went  down  the  walk,  her  ga- 
loshes left  small  holes  in  the  snow 
along  the  walk.  When  she  came 
back,  her  arms  were  filled  with 
bundles.  Paul  kissed  her,  and  said: 
"You  look  like  a  kitten  who's  just 
eaten  the  cream." 

"Bargains,  bargains,"  she  laughed, 
and  her  eyes  were  shining.  But  she 
refused  to  open  her  packages.  "No 
fair  until  Christmas."  She  hurried 
to  the  sewing  room,  and  shut  herself 
up  with  needles,  pins,  and  patterns. 

For  two  days  Paul  scarcely  caught 
a  glimpse  of  her.  He  complained 
a  little,  but  smiled  when  she  told 
him  that  the  blue  dress  and  several 
skirts  and  blouses  were  under  way. 
There  were  pajamas  for  Paul  and 
the  boys,  and  yards  and  yards  of 
nylon  ruffling  to  be  finished  on  the 
blue  dress. 

Somehow,  Sybil  got  everything 
done.    The  pies  were  made.    The 


THE  CLOSED  CIRCLE 


45 


turkey  was  in  the  refrigerator.  She 
and  Kenny  had  chosen  the  tree.  Not 
the  magnificent  pine  that  Kenny 
had  had  his  eye  on,  but  a  smaller 
one  which  had  lost  all  the  branches 
on  one  side. 

"It  won't  matter,  Kenny/'  she 
said,  seeing  his  disappointment, 
'when  it's  in  the  bay  window." 

"It's  ugly,"  said  Kenny  dully, 
"but  I  guess  it's  the  best  we  can 
afford  this  year." 

He  kicked  at  a  piece  of  ice,  and 
said  under  his  breath:  "I  guess 
Christmas  isn't  so  much,  anyways." 

It  could  be,  Kenny!  Sybil's  heart 
was  so  full  that  for  a  moment  she 
thought  she  had  said  the  words  out 
loud.  But  Kenny's  sullen,  disap- 
pointed little  face,  told  her  that  she 
had  not  spoken.  She  walked  silent- 
ly beside  him,  feeling  her  own 
Christmas  crumbling  to  bits  within 
her  heart. 

HPHEY  trimmed  the  tree  on 
Christmas  Eve.  With  Paul's 
help,  for  Sybil's  Christmas  gift  had 
come  true.  Paul  was  tall,  and  well, 
and  strong  again.  The  children 
were  happy.  It  was  like  the  Christ- 
mases  they  had  had  before.  They 
scattered  tissue  and  boxes  all  over 
the  room,  and  when  all  the  decora- 
tions were  in  place,  Kenny  stood 
back  and  stared  at  the  tree  with  a 
critical  eye. 

"I  guess  you  were  right  .  .  . 
Mother,"  with  that  tagging  little 
hesitation,  but  the  smile  he  gave 
her  was  filled  with  happiness,  "it 
looks  all  right  in  the  bay." 

Sybil  had  scarcely  time  to  nod, 
before  the  doorbell  pealed  impera- 
tively. It  was  Paul  who  urged:  "You 
answer  it,  Sybil." 

Sybil  went  to  the  door,  and  had 


a  queer  feeling  that  all  eyes  were 
on  her,  that  each  one  of  them  was 
waiting  for  her  to  turn  the  knob. 
When  she  did  and  saw  her  parents, 
she  found  herself  laughing  and  cry- 
ing in  a  single  breath. 

"Mother!  Dad!"  She  hugged 
them.  Kissed  them.  Then  put  out 
her  hand  to  Paul,  asking  a  breath- 
less question:  "How  .  .  .  .?" 

Kenny  explained,  excitedly.  "We 
put  all  the  money  from  our  piggy 
banks 

"Into  one  pile  .  .  ."  that  was  El- 
na,  just  as  excitedly. 

"And  sent  for  them."  Dan  was 
just  as  excited,  but  not  quite  so 
shrill. 

"Because  you  were  trying  to  make 
a  nice  Christmas  for  us,  Mother," 
finished  Danielle  eagerly. 

Sybil  was  glad  that  Paul's  arm 
was  tight  about  her  slim  waist. 
Why,  she  needn't  have  worried 
about  Paul's  children.  They  had 
seen  the  true  meaning  of  Christ- 
mas much  plainer  than  she  had. 
Sybil's  eyes  were  clear  and  shining 
blue  as  they  reached  out  to  encom- 
pass everyone  in  the  room.  The 
glow  in  her  heart  was  a  steady 
blaze. 

"Merry  Christmas,  darling,"  she 
said,  meeting  Paul's  proud  glance. 
Dan  had  turned  on  the  tree,  and 
it  shone  with  a  soft,  beautiful  radi- 
ance over  all  the  room,  as  Sybil 
watched  the  children  getting  ac- 
quainted with  their  grandmother 
and  grandfather. 

Why,  she  thought,  we're  a  real 
family  now,  and  knew,  deep  in  her 
soul,  that  fears  and  doubts  had  fled. 
From  that  minute  on,  she  belonged. 
The  children  had  given  her  Jove  for 
Christmas. 


Vegetables  -  •«-/!    JJtfferent    vi/ay   (overy   'J)ay 

Part  II 

Rhea  H.  Gardner 

Extension  Service  Home  Management  and  Furnishings  Specialist 
Utah  State  Agricultural  College 

T7*EW  foods  are  more  pleasing  to  the  taste  or  more  appealing  to  the  eye  than  are  garden- 
■■■  fresh  or  fresh  frozen  vegetables  cooked  just  right  and  seasoned  just  enough  to  bring 
out  the  good,  sweet  natural  flavors.  However,  the  serving  of  three  vegetables  every  day, 
does  call  for  variety  in  both  selection  and  methods  of  preparation,  if  there  is  to  be  no 
monotony. 

Here  are  just  a  few  recipes  to  start  you  thinking  up  new  and  interesting  ways  to 
prepare  vegetables  for  your  family. 

Lima  Bean  Casserole 

2  Vi    cups  lima  beans,  home-cooked  1   tablespoon  butter  or  drippings 

or  canned  1   tablespoon  flour 

1  tablespoon  brown  sugar  Vi    teaspoon  salt 

Ys    teaspoon  pepper  2  teaspoons  dry  mustard 

2  teaspoons  lemon  juice  Vz    cup  buttered  crumbs 

!4    cup  cheese,  grated  4  or  5  bacon  strips  or  frankfurters 

Place  drained  lima  beans  in  a  casserole.  Save  liquid.  Heat  butter  or  drippings 
over  low.  heat;  add  flour  and  stir  until  well  blended.  Slowly  add  Vt  cup  liquid  from 
the  beans,  stirring  until  smooth;  cook  over  low  heat  until  thickened.  Add  brown  sugar, 
salt,  pepper,  mustard,  and  lemon  juice.  Pour  sauce  over  lima  beans;  sprinkle  with  but- 
tered crumbs  and  grated  cheese.  Place  strips  of  bacon  or  frankfurters  on  top.  Bake  in 
a  moderate  oven  (375°F)  25  to  35  minutes  or  until  lightly  browned. 

Vegetable  Souffle 

Vegetable  souffle  is  an  excellent  way  to  use  left-over  vegetables.  It  needs  only  a 
crisp  salad  as  an  accompaniment.    To  make  a  serving  for  six,  you  will  need: 

1   cup  cooked  vegetables  2   teaspoons  grated  onion 

1   cup  thick  white  sauce*  4  eggs  separated 

1   tablespoon  lemon  juice  %    teaspoon  cream  of  tartar 

Finely  chop  or  sieve  the  vegetable.  To  the  white  sauce  add  the  prepared  vegetable, 
lemon  juice,  grated  onion,  and  beaten  egg  yolks.    Cool. 

Beat  egg  whites  until  frothy;  add  cream  of  tartar  and  beat  until  stiff  but  not  dry. 
Fold  into  the  above  mixture. 

Put  into  a  casserole  that  has  been  coated  with  a  light  film  of  melted  butter.  Bake 
in  a  moderate  oven   (325^)  about  one  hour. 

Carrots,  spinach,  peas,  green  beans,  or  corn  are  delicious  in  souffles. 

The  use  of  sauces  on  vegetables  can  create  new  interest  and  appetite  appeal  in  veg- 
etable dishes.  Her  are  a  few  sauces  that  help  to  make  good  vegetables  better.  Each 
makes  four  average  servings. 

1.  Cream  sauce  base:     To  1  cup  of  medium  thick  white  sauce  add: 

a.  Three  or  4  tablespoons  horseradish,  \  tablespoon  lemon  juice,  and  Vz  teaspoon 
paprika.  Fold  into  sauce  and  serve  hot  over  string  beans,  asparagus,  cablxige, 
or  cauliflower. 

b.  One  cup  grated  cheese  and  Vz  teaspoon  Worcestershire  sauce.  Mix  with  sauce 

*  Recipe  page  59. 

Page  46 


VEGETABLES 


47 


until  cheese  is  all  melted.     Serve  at  once  over  spinach,  string  beans,  cauli- 
flower, or  asparagus, 
c.  Two  chopped  hard-cooked  eggs  and   1   tablespoon  chopped  parsley.     If  de- 
sired, add  1  teaspoon  dry  mustard.     Serve  over  broccoli,  spinach,  asparagus, 
or  string  beans. 

2.  Easy  Holhndaise  Sauce:  Cut  %  pound  butter  in  small  pieces.  Put  in  top  part 
of  double  boiler  with  3  egg  yolks  and  3  tablespoons  lemon  juice.  Let  stand  at 
room  temperature  for  one-half  hour.  Just  before  serving,  place  over  gently  boil- 
ing water  for  1  Vi  minutes,  stirring  briskly.  Serve  over  freshly  cooked  asparagus, 
carrots,  broccoli,  or  cauliflower. 

3.  Almond  Butter  Sauce:  Melt  Vi  cup  butter  in  a  heavy  pan  and  heat  carefully  to 
a  golden  brown.  Add  Vz  cup  toasted  almonds  slivered  and  3  tablespoons  lemon 
juice.     Pour  over  hot  broccoli,  cauliflower,  or  string  beans  and  serve  at  once. 


LKeba  cJurner,  oLadt/  of  Lshcmtt[ 

"DEBA  Turner,  Loa,  Utah,  sixty-nine  years  old,  is  never  idle.  She  works  for  anyone 
**•  who  asks  her,  and  has  never  taken  a  penny  for  any  of  it.  People  ask  her  to 
work  on  gifts  for  their  loved  ones,  and  although  she  will  never  see  some  of  the  re- 
cipients, she  freely  gives  of  her  time  and  talents.  She  seems  always  to  know  of  some- 
one who  would  like  something  really  lovely,  so  she  makes  gifts  for  all  occasions  and 
for  no  particular  occasion — just  gifts.  She  has  made  seventy-five  doilies,  hundreds  of 
handkerchiefs,  many  lovely  quilts,  dozens  of  embroidered  towels.  During  the  second 
world  war  she  knitted  hundreds  of  pairs  of  sox  and  made  many  good  warm  sweaters. 
Sister  Turner  has  served  as  an  executive  officer  in  the  Primary  Association,  as  a 
Sunday  School  teacher,  a  ward  president  in  Relief  Society  for  six  years,  and  has  been 
a  visiting  teacher  for  forty  years,  a  service  which  she  still  enjoys.  She  has  three  living 
children,  ten  grandchildren,  and  nine  great-grandchildren.  In  commenting  upon  the 
charity  and  love  which  are  so  much  a  part  of  all  that  Sister  Turner  accomplishes,  her 
friend  Mrs.  Nell  Ekker  characterizes  her  as  a  most  exemplary  Relief  Society  woman: 
"When  I  think  of  charity  or  Relief  Society,  I  think  of  Sister  Reba  Turner.  Perhaps 
her  many  years  of  association  with  this  fine  organization  have  interwoven  love  and 
thoughtfulness  and  service  into  her  being  until  she  is  indeed  a  part  of  all  that  Relief 
Society  work  symbolizes." 


Hermanas 


Synopsis:  The  story  "Hermanas"  (sis- 
ters) is  narrated  by  an  American  woman 
living  temporarily  in  Mexico.  She  has 
befriended  Lolita,  a  widow,  and  her  lovely 
daughter  Graciela.  At  Church  Graciela 
meets  Jim  Flores,  studying  to  be  a  doctor, 
and  the  two  become  deeply  in  love.  Gra- 
ciela, after  attending  secretarial  school, 
obtains  a  position  with  a  banker,  and 
meets  a  wealthy  Mexican,  Senor  Munoz, 
who  becomes  interested  in  her.  Lolita 
consents  to  the  arrangements  for  a  mar- 
riage between  her  daughter  and  Senor 
Munoz.  The  American  Senora  visits  Lo- 
lita and  asks  for  an  explanation,  but  she 
fears  that  she  has  pleaded  for  Graciela  in 
vain.  Jim  tries  to  see  Graciela,  but  his 
efforts  are  useless,  and  he  plans  to  leave 
Mexico.  The  American  Senora  asks  Lo- 
lita and  her  daughter  to  come  to  her  home 
on  a  matter  of  great  importance. 


Chapter  7 

Fay  Tarlock 

I  have  seen."  I  stepped  back,  my 
eyes  holding  Lolita's.  "Since  I  have 
seen  Jim  Flores,  I  feel  there  is  one 
thing  more  I  must  know,  and  you 
must  answer  me  before  this  child." 
I  made  my  voice  ring  out. 

"She  is,"  I  pointed  a  finger  at 
Graciela,  "in  your  words,  a  woman 
grown.  Did  she  have  any  choice  in 
this  decision  to  cast  aside  her  affi- 
anced one,  and  her  hope  for  a  dif- 
ferent life  in  her  new  religion,  for 
you  have  tied  the  two  in  one  knot?" 
Pitching  my  voice  higher,  for  I 
knew  now  that  I  had  touched  some- 
thing in  Lolita's  tight  defense,  I 
asked,   "Did   she  choose  this  man 


G 


whose  hands  are  full  of  gold,  but 
RACIELA'S  dark  liquid  eyes      whose  back  is  weary  with  the  bur- 
begged  me  to  believe  she  had      den  of  the  years?    Did  she?"    With 

head  thrown  back,  I  defied  Lolita  to 
answer. 

There  was  no  sound  in  the  room 


kept 


no  other  plans,  but  I 
my  attention  on  the  mother. 

"You  did  not  know,  perhaps,  that 
he  came  to  me  this  afternoon  to  say 
goodbye.    He  is  leaving  Mexico." 

There  were  two  startled  gasps  in 
the  room.  "He  feels  that  everything 
he  had  in  Mexico  is  lost  to  him  and 
he  is  adrift  in  the  world." 

Graciela  came  swiftly  to  my  side 
and  grasped  my  arm.  "It  is  not  true. 
What  you  are  saying?" 

Solemnly  I  nodded. 

With  a  protective  gesture,  Lolita 
moved  to  her  daughter.  "I  did  not 
know  it  would  affect  him  so,  believe 
me,"  she  said,  her  voice  gentle  with 
love.  "But,"  and  hardness  came  in- 
to her  voice  again,  "he  is  young,  he 
will  recover." 

"That  I  do  not  know,"  I  an- 
swered Lolita. 

Page  48 


save  that  of  our  labored  breathing. 
The  three  of  us  waited  in  the  dim 
light.  Graciela  acted  first.  She 
looked  at  her  mother  as  if  she  were 
a  stranger,  seen  for  the  first  time. 
When  Lolita  refused  her  gaze,  the 
girl  jerked  off  the  fragile  black  scarf 
and  in  an  unexpected  burst  of  pas- 
sion, twisted  the  lace  in  her  hands 
until  it  frayed  and  pulled  in  two.  I 
watched  the  girl's  eyes  blaze,  her 
cheeks  go  high  with  color. 

"No!"  she  fairly  shouted.  "I  was 
not  asked.  I  did  it  because  she,  my 
mother,  said  I  must!"  Then  she 
threw  the  lace  fragments  at  her 
mother's  feet. 

Lolita,  horror  and  fear  marking 
"I  only  know  what     her  face,  stooped  to  pick  them  up. 


HERMANAS 


49 


"No!"  Graciela  commanded  her. 
"Let  them  lie.  Never  again  will  1 
wear  a  black  scarf." 

I  think  I  caught  the  purport  of 
her  declaration  even  quicker  than 
her  mother  did,  and  a  wave  of  hap- 
piness and  warmth  surged  through 
me.  Why,  I  told  myself,  I  should 
never  have  doubted  this  girl's 
strength.  So  it  was  I  who  stooped 
and  picked  up  the  tortured  frag- 
ments of  lace. 

Holding  them  in  front  of  me  for 
Graciela  to  note,  I  asked,  "Are  you 
sure  you  have  the  strength  of  will 
to  keep  the  promise  you  have  just 
made  yourself?" 

"Yes,"  the  girl's  voice  was  firm. 
"I  will  keep  that  promise." 

Lolita  stood  as  if  rooted  to  the 
floor,  a  growing  look  of  fear  on  her 
face,  and,  even  now,  I  would  have 
dealt  with  her  compassionately,  if  I 
had  not  felt  more  compassion  for 
her  daughter. 

"It  is  as  I  thought,"  I  said,  keep- 
ing my  role  as  judge.  "You  did  not 
consider  her.  You  thought  yourself 
wise  enough  to  decide  all  things.  Do 
you  still  feel  that  you  are?" 

Slowly  Lolita  raised  her  eyes  to 
mine.  The  fear  and  indecision 
pulled  at  me,  but  I  hardened  myself 
again.  From  me  she  turned  to  the 
girl,  rebellious  for  the  first  time. 

"I  did  it  for  you,"  she  said,  her 
voice  thick  and  dry.  "It  was  a  won- 
derful thing  he  offered  you.  I 
thought  it  best,  you  understand?" 

"How  could  you  think  money 
piled  on  money  to  be  what  I  want. 
I  want  only  my  right  to  believe  and 
my  Jaime."  She  picked  the  tattered 
scarf  from  my  hands  and  tossed  it 
on  the  table  near  her  in  a  last  ges- 


ture   of    defiance.     "I    want    my 
Jaime,"  and  she  began  to  sob. 

"You  see,"  I  said  to  Lolita,  "she 
is  exhausted  by  the  ordeal  of  these 
long  weeks."  And  I,  too,  felt  weary 
and  the  warmth  gone  from  me.  I 
would  have  comforted  the  girl  and 
told  her  she  had  done  well,  but  that 
was  the  mother's  right.  I  looked  at 
her,  my  eyes  saying,  "Now  you  must 
act." 

"Where  can  I  find  this  joven?yf 
Lolita  raised  her  tired  shoulders,  and 
there  was  the  beginning  of  light  in 
her  face. 

Silently  I  pointed  to  the  tele- 
phone and  to  the  pad  beside  it, 
where  I  had  written  Jim's  number 
earlier  in  the  evening. 

Graciela's  sobs  did  not  stop  — 
not  until  she  heard  Jim's  voice, 
clear  in  the  quiet  room. 

WAITING  in  the  night,  we  were 
a  strange  trio.  Lolita  sat  on 
the  brown  leather  couch  beside  her 
daughter,  who  sat  there  with  a  look 
that  was  almost  the  bliss  of  heaven, 
now  that  her  decision  was  made  and 
Jim  was  on  his  way. 

Upstairs  I  heard  one  of  the  chil- 
dren murmur,  and  I  excused  my- 
self. When  I  came  back  we  heard 
the  honk  of  a  taxi  and  the  bell's 
shrill  clamor.  Amporo,  whose  nose 
must  have  been  in  the  kitchen  door, 
came  running  through  the  living 
room  to  admit  Jim. 

Worn  and  puzzled,  he  came  to 
us.  This  time,  however,  his  clothes 
were  neat,  and  there  was  a  look  in 
his  eyes  that  could  easily  be  turned 
into  hope.  Graciela's  eyes  leaped  to 
meet  him,  and  he  responded  to  the 
gladness  in  her,  but  she  did  not  stir, 


50 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


and  quietly  he  pulled  a  chair  next 
to  mine,  his  questioning  face  turned 
towards  the  three  of  us.  I  nodded 
to  Lolita.  The  responsibility  was 
hers. 

I  knew  her  enigma,  but  I  could 
not  help.  She  clutched  at  the  lace 
scarf,  still  knotted  about  her  throat, 
and  the  touch  of  it  was  like  the  an- 
swer to  her  disturbances.  Silently 
she  undid  the  scarf,  rose,  and  placed 
it  side  by  side  with  Graciela's  torn 
one. 

Jim  watched,  more  puzzled  than 
ever,  and  I  thought  Graciela's  joy 
would  burst  through  her  skin,  she 
was  struggling  so  hard  to  contain 
herself.  Calm  now,  Lolita  returned 
to  her  seat  on  the  couch. 

"Today/'  she  told  him,  'when  I 
came  to  you  I  was  wrong.  I  did  not 
ask  my  heart,  only  my  head.  If  you 
will  help  me,  we  will  forget  all  that 
was  said." 

A  complex  person,  this  little  serv- 
ing woman.  Many  things  had 
changed  in  her  while  she  sat  so  pas- 
sive on  the  couch. 

Jim  was  equal  to  the  moment. 
Gravely  he  rose  and  crossed  to  her, 
his  hand  extended.  "I  will  be  grate- 
ful to  you  all  the  days  of  my  life," 
he  said  sitting  beside  her.  The  words 
made  a  bond  between  them.  Then 
he  turned  toward  Graciela,  his  eyes 
warm  with  love. 

I  rose  and  beckoned  Lolita  to  fol- 
low me.  These  lovers,  who  had 
never  been  completely  alone  since 
the  spring  morning  they  met  in  the 
shadow  of  the  chapel,  deserved  their 
hour  of  privacy. 

In  the  kitchen,  Amporo  was  sit- 
ting in  the  harsh  light  of  the  naked 
bulb,  her  head,  with  its  dark  braids 
resting  on  the  table.  Awkwardly  she 


arose,  her  eyes  opaque  with  sleep, 
and  pulled  out  two  more  straight- 
backed  chairs  from  against  the 
whitewashed  wall. 

Lolita  sat  uncomfortably  in  her 
chair.  I  was  eager  for  the  explana- 
tion she  was  preparing  herself  to 
make,  but  I  wanted  it  to  come  in 
her  own  way,  and  I  knew  she  must 
be  hungry. 

"Let's  have  a  piece  of  cake  and 
something  to  drink.  It  won't  take 
the  place  of  the  supper  you  missed, 
but  it  will  help."  I  nodded  to  Am- 
poro. 

Happy  to  be  once  more  part  of 
the  eventful  evening,  Amporo 
brought  the  cake  and  removed  the 
wax  paper.  In  my  unrest  this  morn- 
ing, I  had  used  my  dwindling  sup- 
ply of  raisins  and  nuts  from  home. 
There  is,  I  had  early  discovered,  a 
certain  national  quality  in  the  sweet 
confections  of  Mexico,  and  my  cake 
was  purely  foreign. 

When  Lolita  had  eaten  a  few 
bites,  her  face  lighted  eagerly,  and 
she  ate  until  the  last  crumb  was 
gone.  With  the  taste  lingering  in 
her  mouth,  she  leaned  forward, 
studying  the  cake,  unable  to  ana- 
lyze its  ingredients.  Amporo  of- 
fered her  another  piece  to  eat  with 
her  glass  of  limonade,  but  she  de- 
nied herself. 

"Would  it  be  possible,  Senora," 
she  asked,  her  eyes  still  on  the  cake, 
"to  have  such  a  cake  for  the  wed- 
ding?" 

If  there  was  hysteria  in  my  laugh- 
ter it  was  because  of  the  unexpect- 
edness of  the  request  coming  after 
the  tension  of  the  evening.  Amporo 
shared  my  amusement.  In  a  mo- 
ment the  three  of  us  were  laughing 


HERMANAS 


51 


without  restraint,  the  innocent  cake 
before  us. 

"Pues/'  I  picked  up  a  crumb  that 
had  fallen  on  the  table.  "I  think  it 
can  be  done.  When  will  you  want 
it?"  I  was  truly  curious. 

|  OLITA  beamed.  "That  will  de- 
pend upon  the  novio,  of  course, 
but  I  have  been  doing  much  think- 
ing, and  I  am  of  the  opinion  that 
the  young  people  need  not  wait.  I 
only  ask  that  my  daughter  have  a 
wedding  worthy  of  her."  She  moved 
uneasily  in  her  chair.  "Before  we 
speak  of  weddings,  there  is  some- 
thing I  must  say  to  you." 

"I  am  waiting." 

"Senora,  I  must  tell  you  tonight 
a  burden  is  gone  from  me.  I  had 
not  realized  it  myself  until  I  made 
the  telephone  call,  but  I  did  not 
altogether  act  with  unselfishness  — 
as  I  pretended  to  myself.  Oh,  I 
thought  I  did  everything  for  my 
daughter's  sake,  believe  me,  I 
thought  it  would  be  best  for  her, 
that  in  the  years  to  come  she  would 
be  grateful.  Now  I  know  that  I 
was  thinking  more  of  myself  .  .  . 
and  that  I  denied  the  truth  that  had 
come  to  me." 

Hot  tears  stung  my  eyelids.  It 
was  not  in  me  to  blame  her  because 
she  wanted  a  soft  bed,  the  assur- 
ance of  daily  food,  the  luxury  of  an 
American  dress.  The  security  of 
things  she  could  caress  with  her  eyes 
and  hold  in  her  hands  meant  much 
to  one  who  had  lived  in  the  twilight 
of  bondage.  What  she  had  not  un- 
derstood was  the  fact  that  she  was 
placing  herself  in  another  kind  of 
bondage,  perhaps  more  fretting  than 
her  earlier  chains. 

And    there   was    enough    of   the 


child  left  in  her  to  want  the  tradi- 
tional wedding  of  her  people.  I  pat- 
ted her  hand.  "You  feel  there 
should  be  a  wedding  festival?" 

"If  you're  discussing  weddings,  we 
are  two  interested  parties." 

Startled,  we  looked  up  to  see  Jim 
and  Graciela  standing  in  the  arch- 
way. Jim's  arm  was  possessively 
around  his  girl;  their  happiness  was 
as  warming  as  a  fire. 

"Lolita  has  just  said  she  would 
like  my  nut  cake  for  the  wedding, 
which  means  it  must  be  soon  for  my 
supply  is  almost  gone,"  I  said  look- 
ing at  Jim.  His  expression  was  not 
all  I  had  expected. 

Graciela,  from  the  protection  of 
his  arm,  smiled  up  at  him.  "You 
will  believe  me  now,  my  Jaime, 
there  is  no  reason  why  we  should 
not  be  married  very  quickly."  With 
her  slender  fingers  she  smoothed  the 
deep  furrow  in  his  brow.  "He,"  she 
said  including  us  all  in  her  happi- 
ness, "is  already  a  viejo — worrying 
for  fear  my  mother  will  delay  us, 
worrying  he  won't  have  time  to  fix 
the  house  in  San  Angel.  See,  his 
wrinkles  will  not  rub  away."  She 
removed  her  fingers  to  show  us  the 
furrow  persisted. 

"I  think  a  toast  of  limonade,  sup- 
plemented with  a  piece  of  cake, 
would  be  appropriate  before  we  get 
into  further  discussion."  I  reached 
for  the  cake  and  signalled  for  Am- 
poro  to  fill  the  pitcher. 

"I  could  go  for  that,"  Jim  said, 
"I  don't  think  I've  eaten  today." 

Picking  up  the  cake,  I  led  them 
to  the  larger  table  in  the  dining 
room.  Amporo  followed  with  the 
limonade  and  large  bowls  of  corn 
flakes  and  milk,  over  which  she  lav- 
ishly sprinkled  banana  slices.     The 


52 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


national    supper   of  the   people,    I 
thought. 

1VTOT  until  Jim  had  settled  back  in 
contentment,  Graciela's  hand 
modestly  in  his,  did  I  ask  about  his 
wedding  doubts. 

"For  one  thing,"  Jim  said  reluc- 
tantly, "there's  the  old  house  in  San 
Angel.  It  isn't  safe  to  live  in,  and 
it  would  take  a  lot  of  time  and 
money  to  get  even  the  necessary 
three  rooms  livable. 

Troubled,  Graciela  withdrew  her 
hand.  "You  must  remember, 
Jaime,"  she  said  softly,  "We  have 
been  living  there  for  some  time." 

He  was  a  little  taken  back.  "I 
know,"  he  said,  "but  things  are  dif- 
ferent now."  Taking  both  her 
hands,  he  looked  at  me  for  support. 
"The  floors  are  so  rotten,  it's  a  won- 
der none  of  you  have  fallen  through. 
And  the  plumbing!"  He  glared  at 
the  polished  mahogany  of  the  table. 
"I  don't  imagine  it's  been  changed 
since  the  days  of  the  viceroys." 

"A  sanitario  was  installed  the  year 
before  I  went  to  work  for  the  Ur- 
binas,"  Lolita  said  with  hurt  dignity. 

Jim  winked  at  me,  his  face 
straight.  "There's  running  water, 
too,  all  cold.  And  have  you  seen 
the  sink?  It  looks  like  something 
Cortez  dreamed  up  for  the  whole 
army  to  use.  And  that  brick  master- 
piece that  takes  up  half  the  kitchen 
was  used  to  cook  the  first  meal,  cen- 
turies ago." 

"I  have  a  right  to  live  in  the 
house  as  long  as  I  desire."  Lolita  was 
firm. 

Designed  to  be  a  peacemaker, 
Graciela  drew  them  together  with 
her  loving  glance.  To  Jim  she  said, 
"It  is  not  as  bad  as  you  say.  We  live 
there  and  are  healthy.    Before  long 


I  shall  have  money  saved,  then  we 
can  make  the  repairs  you  think 
necessary.  But  we  do  not  wait  for 
those,  do  we?" 

"I  guess  we'll  sleep  over  it,  any- 
way." Jim  smiled  at  his  two  wom- 
en. 

I  was  willing  to  give  Jim  my  sup- 
port. "We've  decided  enough  for 
one  night."  I  pushed  my  chair  back 
and  stood  a  little  apart,  surveying 
them.  Then  quite  unexpectedly  I 
heard  myself  saying,  "You  want  to 
be  married  soon,  don't  you,  Jim?" 

"What  do  you  think?"  His  lips 
touched  the  burnished  roll  of  Gra- 
ciela's pompadour. 

There  was  a  puzzling  look  on  Lo- 
lita's  face  as  she  watched  them. 
Looking  at  me  as  if  for  permission 
to  speak,  she  rose  and  stood  beside 
me.  "I  am  the  eldest,  you  would 
do  well  to  listen  to  me."  All  of  us 
turned  our  eyes  on  her.  "The  time 
for  you  to  be  married  is  now  —  very 
soon,  I  mean.  It  will  help  to  forget 
the  sorrow  of  these  past  few  weeks 
and  the  two  of  you  can  go  about 
your  work,  not  waste  time  dreaming. 
Is  that  not  right,  Senora?" 

Emphatically  I  nodded,  glad  for 
her  wisdom. 

"And,  in  addition,"  the  color  rose 
in  her  face,  "the  Senor  Munoz  is 
away  from  Mexico  for  a  short  time. 
I  do  not  anticipate  trouble  .  .  ."  she 
stopped  Jim's  protest  with  a  gesture 
of  her  hands.  "As  I  say,  there  will 
be  no  trouble,  and  I,  myself,  will  go 
to  him  immediately  on  his  return, 
but  it  will  be  better,  if  the  marriage 
is  accomplished."  A  sweet  smile 
lighted  her  eyes.  "I  ask  only  that 
there  be  a  wedding  worthy  of  my 
daughter." 

(To  be  concluded) 


[Biographical  Sketches  of  JrLward   winners 
in  the  ibliza  U\.  Snow  LPoem   Contest 


Marvhale  Woolsey  is  well  known  to  readers  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine.  Her 
poems,  stories,  and  articles  have  appeared  in  the  Magazine  since  1925.  She  has  also  con- 
tributed to  other  Church  publications  and  to  many  national  magazines.  Her  songs  and 
operettas  have  received  wide  recognition,  the  most  famous  song  being  "Springtime  in 
the  Rockies,"  which  has  been  acclaimed  an  American  folk  lore  classic.  Until  recent 
years  Mrs.  Woolsey  has  "sandwiched"  her  writing  between  work  as  an  advertising  copy- 
writer and  newspaper  reporter  and  caring  for  four  daughters  who  now  have  homes  and 
families  of  their  own.     Mrs.  Woolsey  has  eleven  grandchildren. 

For  the  past  several  years  Mrs.  Woolsey  has  been  active  in  civic  and  community 
projects  in  Salt  Lake  City.  She  is  a  member  of  the  League  of  Utah  Writers,  the  Utah 
Poetrv  Society,  the  Art  Barn  Poets,  and  other  writers'  organizations.  Also  she  is  a  mem- 
ber of  the  American  Society  of  Composers,  Authors,  and  Publishers.  She  was  chair- 
man in  1953  of  the  central  committee  in  charge  of  publishing  the  third  volume  of  Utah 
Sings.  Now  devoting  most  of  her  time  and  energy  to  writing,  Mrs.  Woolsey  is  in  New 
York  City  doing  research  work  for  a  long-planned  book  and  continuing  various  other 
writing  projects. 

Beatrice  Knowlton  Ekman  was  born  on  the  Knowlton  Ranch  in  Skull  Valley,  Tooele 
County,  Utah,  the  daughter  of  J.  Quincy  Knowlton  and  Ellen  Smith.  After  her  fa- 
ther's death,  Beatrice  moved  with  her  mother  and  the  other  children  to  Kaysville,  where 
her  maternal  grandparents  resided. 

She  attended  the  University  of  Utah,  where  she  met  John  A.  Ekman.  They  were 
married  in  1896,  and  made  their  home  in  Salt  Lake  City.  Here  their  three  children 
were  born — Milton  Woodruff,  Catherine,  and  John  A.  Young  John  died  soon  after 
returning  home  from  the  Navy  in  the  first  world  war.  Beatrice  and  her  husband 
lived  for  thirty  years  in  the  home  at  "C"  Street  and  Eighth  Avenue,  where  Mr.  Ekman 
was  born.  When  they  sold  the  old  home  to  the  Latter-day  Saints  Hospital,  they  moved 
to  Portland,  Oregon,  to  be  near  their  two  children.  Since  Mr.  Ekman  died  in  1947, 
Mrs.  Ekman  has  made  her  home  with  her  daughter,  Catherine  Renstrom  Pitkin. 

Mrs.  Ekman  has  written  poetry  since  childhood,  and  for  the  last  forty  years  has 
published  many  poems  and  some  stories  and  articles,  mostly  in  Latter-day  Saint  Church 
publications.  She  is  represented  in  Utah  Sings,  Our  Legacv,  Of  Stone  and  Star,  Poets 
of  the  Pacific,  and  other  anthologies.  She  loves  to  visit  her  beloved  Utah  and  the  beau- 
tiful mountains  of  her  homeland. 

Ruth  C.  LangJois,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  is  a  newcomer  among  the  award  winners 
in  the  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contests.  She  writes:  "I  am  strictly  in  the  amateur  class  as 
a  writer.  Most  of  my  efforts  have  been  confined  to  road  shows,  birthday  greetings,  com- 
memorating ward  affairs,  and  the  like.  Writing,  however,  has  been  more  or  less  of  a 
hobby,  and  I  have  written  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  activity,  but  have  never  attempted 
to  have  any  of  my  efforts  published.  When  I  was  a  Junior  in  M.I.A.  I  won  first  place 
in  a  district  story  contest  and  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  published  the  story. 

"Between  that  contribution  and  this,  my  life  has  been  very  full  —  a  wonderful  hus- 
band (C.  Vernon  Langlois),  four  sons  and  a  daughter;  P.T.A.  and  M.I.A.  —  it's  a  very 
busy  and  satisfying  life.  I've  always  kept  busy  in  Church  work,  mostly  in  M.I.A.,  in 
which  I  am  now  a  counselor  in  Wells  Stake. 

"Reed,  the  oldest  of  the  children,  is  a  graduate  of  Brigham  Young  University  and 
is  at  present  a  lieutenant  in  the  Navy;  Sharon  is  attending  the  Brigham  Young  University; 
Larry  is  in  high  school;  and  Tommy  achieved  fourth  grade  this  year.  Bob  and  his 
wife  Shirley  made  me  a  grandmother  this  fall!" 

Page  53 


LESSJON   DEPARTMENT 


cJheologyi — Characters  and  Teachings 
of  The  Book  of  Mormon 

Lesson  39— Signs  of  the  Crucifixion;  the  Voice  of  Jesus  Christ  Is  Heard 

Elder  Lehnd  H.  Monson 

(Text:  The  Book  of  Mormon:  3  Nephi,  chapters  8-10) 

For  Tuesday,  April  3,  1956 

Objective:  To  learn  of  the  prophecies  concerning  the  crucifixion  and  their  ful- 
fillment. 


DY  thirty-four  a.d.  people  began 
to  look  for  the  fulfillment  of  the 
prophecy  of  Samuel  the  Lamanite 
relating  to  the  crucifixion  of  Jesus 
Christ  on  the  Eastern  Hemisphere. 
Samuel  had  said: 

.  .  .  behold,  in  that  day  that  he  shall 
suffer  death  the  sun  shall  be  darkened 
and  refuse  to  give  his  light  unto  you;  and 
also  the  moon  and  the  stars;  and  there 
shall  be  no  light  upon  the  face  of  this 
land,  even  from  the  time  that  he  shall 
suffer  death,  for  the  space  of  three  days, 
to  the  time  that  he  shall  rise  again  from 
the  dead.  Yea,  at  the  time  that  he  shall 
yield  up  the  ghost  there  shall  be  thunder- 
ings  and  lightnings  for  the  space  of  many 
hours,  and  the  earth  shall  shake  and  trem- 
ble; and  the  rocks  which  are  upon  the 
face  of  this  earth,  which  are  both  above 
the  earth  and  beneath,  which  ye  know  at 
this  time  are  solid,  or  the  more  part  of 
it  is  one  solid  mass,  shall  be  broken  up 
(Helaman  14:20-21;  see  also  verses  22-29). 

Page  54 


Fulfillment  of  Prophecy 
oi  Destruction 

In  thirty-four  a.d.,  this  remark- 
able prophecy  had  its  literal  fulfill- 
ment. Mormon,  recording  the 
event,  wrote: 

And  it  came  to  pass  in  the  thirty  and 
fourth  year,  in  the  first  month,  on  the 
fourth  day  of  the  month,  there  arose  a 
great  storm,  such  an  one  as  never  had 
been  known  in  all  the  land.  And  there 
was  also  a  great  and  terrible  tempest;  and 
there  was  terrible  thunder,  insomuch  that 
it  did  shake  the  whole  earth  as  if  it  was 
about  to  divide  asunder.  And  there  were 
exceeding  sharp  lightnings,  such  as  never 
had  been  known  in  all  the  land  (3  Nephi 
8:5-7). 

Mormon  then  details  the  nature 
of  the  destruction: 

And  there  was  a  great  and  terrible  de- 
struction in  the  land  southward.  But  .  .  . 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


55 


there  was  a  more  great  and  terrible  de- 
struction in  the  land  northward;  for  be- 
hold, the  whole  face  of  the  land  was 
changed,  because  of  the  tempest  and  the 
whirlwinds,  and  the  thunderings  and  the 
lightnings,  and  the  exceeding  great  quak- 
ing of  the  whole  earth;  And  the  highways 
were  broken  up,  and  the  level  roads  were 
spoiled,  and  many  smooth  places  became 
rough.  And  many  great  and  notable 
cities  were  sunk,  and  many  were  burned, 
and  many  were  shaken  till  the  buildings 
thereof  had  fallen  to  the  earth,  and  the 
inhabitants  thereof  were  slain,  and  the 
places  were  left  desolate  (3  Nephi 
8:11-14). 

Zarahemla  was  gutted  by  fire,  the 
city  of  Moroni  sank  into  the  sea, 
and  Moronihah  was  buried  beneath 
a  mountain.  And  these  are  only 
examples  of  what  happened  to  many 
others. 

After  this  destruction  "thick 
darkness"  settled  over  the  land,  so 
thick  that  the  people  whose  lives 
were  spared  could  ".  .  .  feel  the 
vapor  of  darkness"  (3  Nephi  8:20). 
In  fact,  it  was  impossible  to  light 
candles  or  torches. 

.  .  .  neither  could  there  be  fire  kindled 
with  their  fine  and  exceedingly  dry  wood, 
so  that  there  could  not  be  any  light  at 
all;  And  there  was  not  any  light  seen, 
neither  fire,  nor  glimmer,  neither  the  sun, 
nor  the  moon,  nor  the  stars,  for  so  great 
were  the  mists  of  darkness  which  were 
upon  the  face  of  the  land  (3  Nephi 
8:21-22). 

Lamentations  oi  Survivors 

Survivors  of  the  destruction  la- 
mented that  they  had  not  heeded 
the  prophets. 

And  in  one  place  they  were  heard  to 
cry,  saying:  O  that  we  had  repented  before 
this  great  and  terrible  day,  and  then 
would  our  brethren  have  been  spared,  and 
they  would  not  have  been  burned  in  that 
great  city  Zarahemla  (3  Nephi  8:24). 


The  Voice  oi  Jesus  Christ 
Amidst  these  lamentations: 

.  .  .  there  was  a  voice  heard  among  all 
the  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  upon  all  the 
face  of  this  land,  crying:  Wo,  wo,  wo 
unto  this  people;  wo  unto  the  inhabitants 
of  the  whole  earth  except  they  shall  re- 
pent; for  the  devil  laugheth,  and  his 
angels  rejoice,  because  of  the  slain  of  the 
fair  sons  and  daughters  of  my  people; 
and  it  is  because  of  their  iniquity  and 
abominations  that  they  are  fallen!  (3 
Nephi  9:1-2). 

And  many  great  destructions  have  I 
caused  to  come  upon  this  land,  and  upon 
this  people,  because  of  their  wickedness 
and  their  abominations. 

0  all  ye  that  are  spared  because  ye 
were  more  righteous  than  they,  will  ye 
not  now  return  unto  me,  and  repent  of 
your  sins,  and  be  converted,  that  I  may 
heal  you? 

Yea,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  if  ye  will 
come  unto  me  ye  shall  have  eternal  life. 
Behold,  mine  arm  of  mercy  is  extended 
towards  you,  and  whosoever  will  come, 
him  will  I  receive;  and  blessed  are  those 
who  come  unto  me. 

Behold,  I  am  Jesus  Christ  the  Son  of 
God.  I  created  the  heavens  and  the  earth, 
and  all  things  that  in  them  are.  I  was  with 
the  Father  from  the  beginning.  I  am  in 
the  Father,  and  the  Father  in  me;  and 
in  me  hath  the  Father  glorified  his  name. 

1  came  unto  my  own,  and  my  own 
received  me  not.  And  the  scriptures  con- 
cerning my  coming  are  fulfilled. 

And  as  many  as  have  received  me,  to 
them  have  I  given  to  become  the  sons  of 
God;  and  even  so  will  I  to  as  many  as 
shall  believe  on  my  name,  for  behold,  by 
me  redemption  cometh,  and  in  me  is  the 
law  of  Moses  fulfilled. 

I  am  the  light  and  the  life  of  the 
world.  I  am  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  be- 
ginning and  the  end. 

And  ye  shall  offer  up  unto  me  no  more 
the  shedding  of  blood;  yea,  your  sacrifices 
and  your  burnt  offerings  shall  be  done 
away,  for  I  will  accept  none  of  your  sac- 
rifices and  your  burnt  offerings. 


56 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


And  ye  shall  offer  for  a  sacrifice  unto 
me  a  broken  heart  and  a  contrite  spirit. 
And  whoso  cometh  unto  me  with  a  brok- 
en heart  and  a  contrite  spirit,  him  will 
I  baptize  with  fire  and  with  the  Holy 
Ghost,  even  as  the  Lamanites,  because  of 
their  faith  in  me  at  the  time  of  their 
conversion,  were  baptized  with  fire  and 
with  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  they  knew  it 
not. 

Behold,  I  have  come  unto  the  world  to 
bring  redemption  unto  the  world,  to  save 
the  world  from  sin. 

Therefore,  whoso  repenteth  and  cometh 
unto  me  as  a  little  child,  him  will  I  re- 
ceive, for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  God. 
Behold,  for  such  I  have  laid  down  my 
life,  and  have  taken  it  up  again;  therefore 
repent,  and  come  unto  me  ye  ends  of  the 
earth,  and  be  saved  (3  Nephi  9:12-22). 

After  these  sayings  there  was  si- 
lence in  the  land  for  many  hours. 
Then  the  voice  of  Jesus  was  heard 
again,  telling  them  that  he  had  often 
wanted  to  gather  this  branch  of  the 
house  of  Israel  together  as  a  hen 
gathers  her  chickens,  but  they 
would  not  permit  it.  This  instruc- 
tion was  followed  by  more  weeping 
and  howling  over  the  loss  of  their 
kindred  and  friends. 

Then  it  was  that  the  three-day 
period  was  ended,  and  darkness  dis- 
persed from  off  the  land,  and  the 
destruction  ceased. 

Appearance  of  Christ  to  Nephites 

It  was  only  the  more  righteous 
of  the  people  who  remained  to  re- 
joice over  the  appearance  of  the  Son 
of  God,  only  those  who  had  received 
the  prophets: 

And  the  earth  did  cleave  together  again, 
that  it  stood;  and  the  mourning,  and  the 
weeping,  and  the  wailing  of  the  people 
who  were  spared  alive  did  cease;  and  their 
mourning  was  turned  into  joy,  and  their 
lamentations  into  the  praise  and  thanks- 
giving unto  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  their 
Redeemer  (3  Nephi  10:10). 


Mormon  cautions  the  reader  of 
the  account  to  read  with  understand- 
ing: 

And  now,  whoso  readeth,  let  him  un- 
derstand; he  that  hath  the  scriptures,  let 
him  search  them,  and  see  and  behold  if 
all  these  deaths  and  destructions  by  fire, 
and  by  smoke,  and  by  tempests,  and  by 
whirlwinds,  and  by  the  opening  of  the 
earth  to  receive  them,  and  all  these  things 
are  not  unto  the  fulfilling  of  the  proph- 
ecies of  many  of  the  holy  prophets. 

Behold,  I  say  unto  you,  Yea,  many  have 
testified  of  these  things  at  the  coming  of 
Christ,  and  were  slain  because  they  testi- 
fied of  these  things. 

Yea,  the  prophet  Zenos  did  testify  of 
these  things,  and  also  Zenock  spake  con- 
corning  these  things,  because  they  testi- 
fied particularly  concerning  us,  who  are 
the  remnant  of  their  seed. 

Behold,  our  father  Jacob  also  testified 
concerning  a  remnant  of  the  seed  of  Jo- 
seph. And  behold,  are  not  we  a  remnant 
of  the  seed  of  Joseph?  And  these  things 
which  testify  of  us,  are  they  not  written 
upon  the  plates  of  brass  which  our  father 
Lehi  brought  out  of  Jerusalem?  (3  Nephi 
10:14-17). 

Thus  we  see  the  literal  fulfillment 
of  the  prophecies  concerning  the 
destructions  which  were  to  accom- 
pany the  crucifixion  of  Christ.  We 
see  the  glorious  appearance  of  the 
Christ  on  the  Western  Hemisphere. 
Nephi  became  an  active  participant 
as  one  of  the  twelve  disciples  of 
Christ  in  helping  to  establish  a  pe- 
riod of  freedom  and  security,  of  hap- 
piness and  serenity. 

Mormon  does  not  unfold  this  por- 
tion of  his  record  to  us  without 
showing  how  the  Lord  blessed  those 
who  had  survived,  saying: 

And  it  came  to  pass  that  in  the  ending 
of  the  thirty  and  fourth  year,  behold,  I 
will  show  unto  you  that  the  people  of 
Nephi  who  were  spared,  and  also  those 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


57 


who  had  been  called  Lamanites,  who  had 
been  spared,  did  have  great  favors  shown 
unto  them,  and  great  blessings  poured 
out  upon  their  heads,  insomuch  that  soon 
after  the  ascension  of  Christ  into  heaven 
he  did  truly  manifest  himself  unto  them — 
Showing  his  body  unto  them,  and  min- 
istering unto  them;  and  an  account  of 
his  ministry  shall  be  given  hereafter. 
Therefore  for  this  time  I  make  an  end 
of  my  sayings  (3  Nephi  10:18-19). 


Questions  and  Topics  for  Discussion 

1.  What  were   the  signs  of   the  cruci- 
fixion? 

2.  What  early  prophecies  were  fulfilled 
by  these  signs  and  events  which  followed? 

3.  I  low   is   God's   mercy   shown   in   his 
dealings  with  these  surviving  Ncphites? 

4.  To  what  did  Mormon,  the  Nephite 
historian,  attribute  all  this  destruction? 


iY> 


Visiting  cJeacher    t/tessages 

Book  of  Mormon  Gems  of  Truth 

Lesson  39— "But  Behold,  the  Resurrection  of  Christ  Redeemeth  Mankind, 

Yea,  Even  All  Mankind,  and  Bringeth  Them  Back  Into  the 

Presence  of  the  Lord"  (Helaman  14:17). 

t 


Edith  S.  Elliott 

For  Tuesday,  April  3,  1956 


Objective:  To  show  that  Christ  broke  the  bonds  of  death  and  all  men  will  be 
resurrected. 


"CHASTER  time  is  accepted  through- 
out the  realm  of  Christianity  as 
a  time  of  rejoicing  because  it  is  the 
anniversary  of  the  resurrection  of 
Christ,  the  last  act  needed  to  com- 
plete his  mission  on  earth.  In  his 
few  years  of  mortal  life  he  taught 
the  plan  of  salvation,  experienced 
death,  then  immortality.  His  whole 
life  was  one  of  example,  proving  to 
mortals  that  the  plan  is  sound  and 
workable. 

Some  may  say,  "Well,  he  knew 
the  plan,  he  knew  that  he  was  the 
Son  of  God  and  the  Savior  of  the 
world. "  Yes,  he  knew,  and  know- 
ing it,  has  shared  every  phase  of  the 
plan  with  us.  He  outlined  the  way 
back  to  God's  presence  so  clearly 
that  anyone  sincerely  desiring  sal- 
vation can  follow.  In  John  11:25-26 
is  the  summary  of  his  plan  and  his 
promise. 


...  I  am  the  resurrection,  and  the  life: 
he  that  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were 
dead,  yet  shall  he  live:  And  whosoever 
liveth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never 
die  ...  . 

A  careful  analysis  of  the  above 
quotation  will  prove  the  profundity 
of  the  statement.  To  know  that  this 
life  is  not  the  end  of  our  activity  is 
most  rewarding.  It  challenges  us  to 
make  our  every  act  one  that  is  ac- 
ceptable to  our  Heavenly  Father. 
We  have  our  free  agency  and  are 
not  coerced,  so  think  how  great  can 
be  our  blessing  if  we  choose  to  fol- 
low the  example  of  Jesus! 

There  should  be  no  doubt  about 
a  life  hereafter.  We  find  its  evi- 
dence in  scripture  and  modern  reve- 
lation. The  loving  concern  of  our 
Heavenly  Father  for  his  children 
proves  without  a  doubt  that  his  plan 
is  to  return  them  to  his  kingdom  as 
sanctified,  resurrected  beings. 


58 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


The  prophet  Alma  tells  us: 


and  thus  they  are  restored  into  his  pres- 
ence,   to    be    judged    according    to    their 
.  .  .  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  bring-       works,   according   to   the   law   and   justice 
etri  back  men  into  the  presence  of  God;       (Alma  42:23). 


Work   Tfleeting— Food  Preparation  and  Service 

(A  Course  Recommended  for  Use  by  Wards  and  Branches  at  Work  Meeting) 

Lesson  7-Vegetable  Cookery  (Continued) 

Rhea  H.  Gardner 

For  Tuesday,  April  io,  1956 


pEW  foods  are  more  delicious 
"  than  are  properly  cooked,  gar- 
den-fresh vegetables.  Very  little 
seasoning  is  needed  to  make  them 
appealing  to  both  the  eye  and  the 
taste. 

Sauces,  buttered  crumbs,  and  oth- 
er seasonings  are  too  often  used  to 
camouflage  poor  quality  or  improp- 
erly cooked  vegetables.  Good  cook- 
ing is  essential  if  you  wish  to  have 
a  truly  delicious,  nutritious,  and 
eye-appealing  vegetable  dish  to 
serve  your  family. 

Cabbage 

Cabbage  is  one  of  our  good,  com- 
paratively inexpensive,  year-round 
vegetables.  There  are  many  ways 
to  prepare  it,  but  one  of  the  most 
popular  is  to  cook  it  in  milk.  Put 
six  cups  of  shredded  cabbage  and 
one  cup  whole  or  top  milk  into  a 
heavy  pan.  Simmer  for  two  min- 
utes. While  it  is  cooking,  cream 
together  two  teaspoons  each  of  but- 
ter and  flour  and  one-half  teaspoon 
salt.  Add  to  cabbage,  stirring  until 
thickening  is  well  distributed.  Cook 
three  or  four  minutes  longer.  Serve 
immediately.     For     added     flavor, 


grate  cheese  over  it  just  before  plac- 
ing it  on  the  table.  Red  cabbage 
does  not  stay  red  during  cooking 
unless  acid  is  added  to  the  cooking 
water  in  the  form  of  vinegar,  lemon 
juice,  or  fresh,  tart  apples. 

Carrots 

Carrots  are  one  of  our  best  and 
least  expensive  year-round  vege- 
tables. They  are  colorful  and  fairly 
bursting  with  body-building  ma- 
terials. Serve  them  often,  but  in  a 
variety  of  ways. 

Carrots  cooked  in  a  minimum 
amount  of  water,  either  whole,  cut 
in  strips,  diced,  or  shredded  are  de- 
licious seasoned  with  a  sauce  made 
of  melted  butter,  lemon  juice,  and 
minced  parsley.  Pour  the  sauce 
over  the  carrots  just  before  serving. 
The  bright  green  color  of  the  par- 
sley is  an  appealing  contrast  to  the 
deep  orange  of  the  carrots. 

If  you  have  never  served  braised 
carrots  or  celery,  do  so  soon.  Cut 
the  vegetables  into  three  to  four- 
inch  lengths.  For  each  quart  of 
vegetables,  melt  two  tablespoons 
butter  in  a  heavy  pan.  Add  the 
vegetable  and  cook  over  low  heat  in 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


59 


a  covered  pan  for  about  ten  min- 
utes. In  the  meantime,  dissolve  a 
bouillon  cube  in  one-half  cup  hot 
water.  Pour  over  the  vegetable. 
Continue  cooking  until  the  vege- 
table is  tender  and  the  stock  is  re- 
duced in  volume  so  it  serves  as  a 
sauce. 

Carrots  are  delicious  cooked  with 
cabbage.  Put  two  cups  shredded 
carrots,  one  teaspoon  salt,  and  one 
cup  boiling  water  in  a  pan  with  a 
close  flitting  lid.  Cook  about  ten 
minutes  or  until  partly  tender.  Add 
three  cups  shredded  cabbage  and 
simmer,  uncovered  for  ten  minutes. 
Add  two  tablespoons  butter,  and 
pepper,  if  desired,  and  cook  about 
five  minutes  longer.  Carrots  and 
turnips  are  also  delicious  cooked  to- 
gether, mashed,  and  seasoned  with 
butter,  salt,  and  pepper.  Carrots 
combine  well  in  creamed  and  scal- 
loped dishes,  as  do  most  other  vege- 
tables. 

Sauces  for  Vegetables 

For  creamed  dishes  the  sauce 
should  give  the  appearance  of  being 
a  dressing  on  the  food,  therefore, 
less  sauce  than  food  should  be  used. 
More  pleasing  results  are  obtained 
if  the  sauce  is  poured  over  the  hot 
vegetable  rather  than  have  the  veg- 
etable stirred  into  the  sauce. 

White  sauce  is  the  basis  for  all 
creamed  dishes.  It  is  important 
that  it  be  the  right  consistency  for 
the  use  intended. 

White  Sauce 

Thin  Medium  Thick 
Butter         3  Tbs.        4  Tbs.        6  Tbs. 
Flour           2  Tbs.         4  Tbs.         8  Tbs. 
Salt              1   tsp.           1   tsp.  1   tsp. 

Pepper       %    tsp.  %    tsp.  Vi    tsp. 
Milk           2  cups        2  cups         2  cups 


Mix  butter  and  flour  in  pan  over 
low  heat.  When  butter  is  melted, 
add  all  of  the  milk  at  once  and  stir 
until  mixture  is  thick  and  smooth. 
Add  seasonings. 

Scalloped  Vegetables 

For  scalloped  vegetable  dishes  use 
one  half  to  one  cup  of  medium 
white  sauce  for  each  cup  of  cooked 
vegetables.  Put  alternating  layers 
of  vegetables  and  sauce  into  a  bak- 
ing dish,  then  cover  with  a  layer  of 
buttered  crumbs.  Place  in  a  moder- 
ate hot  oven  until  the  food  is  pip- 
ing hot  and  the  crumbs  are  deli- 
cately browned.  Grated  cheese, 
either  cheddar  or  Swiss,  minced 
onion,  or  parsley  may  be  added  to 
the  sauce,  or  the  grated  cheese  may 
be  sprinkled  over  the  top  about  a 
minute  before  the  dish  is  removed 
from  the  oven. 

Vegetable  Souffles 

Vegetable  souffle  dishes  are  favo- 
rites in  many  homes.  A  souffle  is 
an  excellent  way  to  use  leftover  veg- 
etables, such  as  carrots,  green  beans, 
peas,  corn,  and  spinach.  This  basis 
of  a  souffle  is  a  thick  white  sauce. 
Mix  equal  parts  of  vegetables  and 
white  sauce.  Add  from  two  to  four 
well-beaten  egg  yolks  for  each  cup- 
ful of  sauce.  Fold  mixture  carefully 
into  the  beaten  egg  whites.  Turn 
into  a  well-oiled  baking  dish.  Place 
the  dish  in  a  larger  container  of  hot 
water.  Bake  in  a  moderate  (35o°F) 
oven  until  mixture  is  firm  and  del- 
icately browned  on  top.  A  vege- 
table souffle  served  with  a  crisp  sal- 
ad and  a  light  dessert  makes  a  com- 
plete meal. 

Variations  of  White  Sauce 

"There  are  a  variety  of  sauces  using 
medium  white  sauce  as  a  basis  that 


60 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


may  be  served  over  vegetables  to  en- 
hance their  natural  flavor.  Mock 
HoIIandaise  sauce  is  delicious  served 
over  broccoli,  asparagus,  and  cauli- 
flower. Cheese  sauces  add  food 
value  and  complement  the  flavors 
of  spinach,  cabbage,  cauliflower, 
and  beans.  Egg  sauce  and  horse- 
radish sauce  are  others  that  add  in- 
terest and  delightful  flavors  to  many 
vegetables.  For  exact  amounts  of 
ingredients  to  add  to  the  white 
sauce  for  the  particular  sauce  you 
desire,  see  any  reliable  cook  book. 

Dress  up  your  vegetables  for  va- 
riety's sake  occasionally,  but  don't 
make  a  regular  practice  of  it.  Learn 
to  know  and  appreciate  the  true, 

Note  the  supplementary  material  to  this  lesson  in  the  article  "Vegetables — A  Dif- 
ferent Way  Every  Day,  Part  11"  by  Rhea  H.  Gardner,  on  page  46  of  this  issue  of 
The  Relief  Society  Magazine. 


natural  flavor  of  good  vegetables, 
cooked  well,  and  seasoned  with  but- 
ter and  a  little  salt. 

Get  out  of  the  rut  of  serving  the 
same  vegetable  over  and  over.  There 
is  such  a  variety  for  selection  in  our 
markets.  Let  it  be  a  challenge  to 
try  out  new  ones  as  well  as  new 
methods  of  cooking  them. 

Suggestions  for  the  Class  Leader 

1.  Demonstrate  the  preparation  of  one 
or  more  unusual  vegetable  dishes  or  bring 
to  the  class  some  you  have  previously 
prepared. 

2.  List  vegetables  that  are  not  common- 
ly used  which  might  be  enjoyed  by  our 
families 


JLtterature — The  Literature  of  England 


Lesson  55-Thomas  Hardy  (1840-1928)  "The  Return  of  the  Native" 

Elder  Briant  S.  Jacobs 

(Textbook:  The  Literature  of  England,  II,  Woods,  Watt,  Anderson,  pp.  918-926) 

For  Tuesday,  April  17,  1956 

Objective:  To  achieve  greater  insight  into  the  world  of  Thomas  Hardy  by  studying 
briefly  his  life,  some  of  his  poems,  and  one  of  his  great  novels  (The  Return  of  the 
Native). 


HTHOMAS  Hardy  is  one  of  the 
Titans  of  English  Literature. 
He  wrote  fourteen  novels  and  more 
than  nine  hundred  poems.  Because 
of  such  productivity  Hardy  can  be 
known  completely  only  by  the 
scholar.  Even  when  we  select  rigor- 
ously from  his  best  works,  it  is  most 
difficult  within  our  small  time  span 
to  choose  that  which  represents 
fairly  his  basic  excellences. 


Hardy's  Life 

Hardy  was  born  in  Dorsetshire,  a 
rural  county  bordering  England's 
southern  seacoast,  which  was  to  be- 
come the  Wessex  of  his  poems  and 
the  Egdon  Heath  of  The  Return  of 
the  Native.  His  father,  a  carpenter 
and  mason,  gave  his  son  hardly 
more  formal  education  than  the 
three  R's,  but  he  made  up  for  it  by 
breaking  him  to  the  hard  tasks  of 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


61 


the  building  trades.  At  nights  fa- 
ther and  son  rushed  off  to  furnish 
music  for  weddings,  christenings, 
and  rural  parties,  Hardy  playing  the 
fiddle.  Sundays  they  played  in  the 
local  church.  Thus  Hardy's  forma- 
tive years  were  shaped  by  no  literary 
or  artificial  force;  instead,  he  knew 
at  first  hand  the  very  texture  of 
common  people.  Throughout  his 
more  than  fifty  years  of  productivity 
this  region  furnished  the  artist 
Hardy  with  most  of  his  tools:  scene, 
language,  characters.  Likewise,  his 
mood  and  theme,  while  more  nearly 
his  own,  also  echo  this  region's  iso- 
lated somberness.  Thus  all  the  true 
roots  within  the  essential  Hardy- 
grew  deep  into  his  home  soil  and 
the  common  rural  people  it  nur- 
tured. 

The  Lost  Youth 

Young  Hardy  had  long  dreamed 
of  becoming  a  minister.  His  nat- 
ural, boyish  optimism  was  as  pure 
and  unbounded  as  Shelley's.  As  a 
youth  he  taught  Sunday  School  and 
was  active  in  the  Anglican  Church. 
When  at  the  age  of  sixteen  he  was 
apprenticed  to  a  church  architect  in 
nearby  Dorchester,  for  the  first  time 
he  had  leisure  to  read.  Soon  he  was 
studying  each  night  after  work  from 
six  until  midnight.  Throughout  the 
next  decade  he  still  planned  on  en- 
tering the  ministry,  but  increasingly 
he  wavered  between  faith  and  doubt. 
Soon  after  he  turned  twenty-five 
Hardy  realized,  after  close  self-ex- 
amination, "that  he  could  hardly 
take  the  step  with  honor,"  since,  to 
his  intense  pain,  he  no  longer  found 
it  possible  to  believe,  desperately  as 
he  longed  to  (see  his  moving,  sim- 
ple poem,  "The  Oxen,"  text,  page 
926). 


A  Perry  Picture 

THOMAS  HARDY 

(1840-1928) 

When  we  are  tempted  to  blame 
the  young  Hardy  for  seeing  the 
universe  as  being  indifferently  man- 
aged, then,  in  fairness  and  under- 
standing, we  must  recall  how  des- 
perately Hardy  wished  his  view  of 
reality  could  be  otherwise,  how  de- 
voutly he  coveted  a  faith  which  he 
could  not  know.  Then  we  are  more 
nearly  ready  to  meet  Hardy  on  his 
own  terms  and  measure  out  to  him 
the  same  sympathy  which  he  meas- 
ures out  in  abundance  to  his  charac- 
ters. 

The  Successful  Hardy 

Though  Hardy  won  prizes  for  his 
architectural  skills,  he  found  the 
drafting  board  tedious;  still  it  was 
his  living,  since  his  first  published 
works  were  not  well  received.  In 
1870,  when   he  was   thirty,  Hardy 


62 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


met  Lavina  Gifford.  They  were  en- 
gaged but  did  not  marry  until  four 
years  later,  since  his  desire  to  be- 
come a  poet,  even  had  it  been  ful- 
filled, scarcely  could  have  kept 
them.  Slowly  realizing  that  writing 
poetry  was  a  luxury  he  could  not 
afford,  Hardy  began  writing  novels. 
When  in  1874  ms  ^ar  From  the 
Madding  Crowd  sold  well,  Hardy 
felt  an  adequate  income  was  assured 
and  they  were  married. 

Within  a  period  of  twenty-four 
years  Hardy  published  fourteen  nov- 
els and  many  short  stories,  though 
he  still  considered  himself  primarily 
a  poet.  He  wrote  fiction  to  please 
a  growing  audience,  not  himself. 
When  his  Jude,  the  Obscure  was 
harshly  criticized  in  1896,  Hardy 
ceased  writing  novels,  not  so  much 
because  his  feelings  were  hurt,  but 
because  he  had  made  enough  to  live 
on  the  rest  of  his  life,  and  because 
he  had  said  everything  in  fiction  he 
wanted  to  say.  For  the  next  thirty 
years  and  more  he  wrote  poetry  to 
please  himself. 

His  first  wife  was  sometimes  diffi- 
cult, yet  at  her  death  Hardy  felt  a 
genuine  loss.  With  his  second  wife 
he  knew  greater  peace.  He  had 
lived  for  a  time  in  London,  but  in 
1885,  the  Hardys  moved  to  the 
countryside  of  Dorsetshire,  where 
they  lived  the  rest  of  their  lives. 

During  his  final  decades  Hardy 
was  universally  regarded  as  the 
grand  old  man  of  English  letters. 
Through  the  years  he  had  won  more 
and  more  personal  friends  by  the 
sweetness  of  his  personality,  as  well 
as  by  kindness,  deep  sincerity,  and 
freedom  from  hypocrisy  and  ambi- 
tion. When  he  died  at  the  age  of 
eighty-eight,  the  English  public  de- 


manded he  be  given  the  honor  of 
burial  in  Westminster  Abbey,  but 
his  dearest  friends,  knowing  that 
his  heart  had  ever  been  in  the  Dor- 
setshire soil,  felt  he  should  be 
buried  there,  which  was  done. 

Hardy's  Nature 

That  Hardy  is  pessimistic  is  the 
truth  immediately  evident  in  Hardy, 
but  it  is  not  the  whole  truth.  First 
let  us  remember  that  Hardy,  both 
as  a  man  and  as  an  artist,  was  domi- 
nated by  great  sincerity  and  great 
integrity:  he  believed  as  he  did— 
he  wrote  as  he  did,  because  he  could 
do  no  other.  How  desperately  he 
wished  he  could  believe.  Next, 
only  those  holding  a  high  concept 
of  man  can  suffer  beneath  the  pains 
of  mortality  as  deeply  as  did  Hardy. 
Basic  to  his  writings  is  his  belief,  as 
he  quoted  from  St.  Jerome  in  his 
preface  of  Tess  of  the  D'Urbervilles: 
"If  an  offense  come  out  of  the 
truth,  better  is  it  that  the  offense 
come  than  that  the  truth  be  con- 
cealed." 

He  felt  compelled  to  portray  all 
of  life  as  he  saw  it;  he  wanted  to 
show  how  in  lives  of  common,  iso- 
lated people  "dramas  of  a  grandeur 
and  unity  truly  Sophoclean  are  en- 
acted in  the  real,  by  virtue  of  the 
concentrated  passions  and  closely 
knit  interdependence  of  the  lives 
therein."  And  by  painting  this 
common  reality  with  such  tender- 
ness and  sympathy  for  the  down- 
trodden that  the  reader  cannot 
escape  his  accurate  and  vivid  words, 
he  defined  the  universal  experience 
of  all  men,  giving  to  the  lives  of 
average  mankind  a  tragic  signifi- 
cance hitherto  unknown.  Most  im- 
portant, nature  in  Hardy  is  not  evil; 
it   is   indifferent.     Men's  lives   are 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


63 


controlled  both  by  their  own  wills 
and  by  fate  or  doom.  But  though 
life  sometimes  seems  aimless,  our 
world  is  by  no  means  the  worst  pos- 
sible. While  many  evils  seem  to  re- 
sult from  fate,  others  come  from 
man's  own  failure  to  remedy  his 
own  inhumanity  to  his  fellows.  If 
man  will  but  abandon  his  "robusti- 
ous swaggering  optimism,"  which  is 
"cowardly  and  insincere,"  says 
Hardy,  he  can  improve  man's  lot 
through  his  own  charity  and  under- 
standing. In  an  age  which  increas- 
ingly emphasized  the  machine  over 
man,  and  the  universe-as-machine 
versus  the  individual,  Hardy  be- 
lieved that  first  and  last  was  the 
human  soul,  to  be  balmed  through 
gentleness  and  love  in  the  face  of 
the  suffering  and  cruelty  it  seems 
mortal's  lot  to  bear. 

Hardy's  Poems 

In  his  novels  Hardy  creates  strong 
women  and  universal  situations;  but 
it  is  in  his  poems  that  Hardy  reveals 
his  more  intimate  self.  Resisting 
any  tendency  to  ornate  imagery  or 
elaborate  rhyme  schemes,  Hardy's 
poems  often  depict  the  English 
working  class  as  alternately  frank, 
proud,  self-belittling,  fickle,  weak, 
obstinate,  stoical;  often  they  are 
heavily  tinged  with  Hardy's  ironic 
humor,  as  in  "A  Beauty's  Soliloquy 
During  Her  Honeymoon"  (page 
919),  "The  Man  He  Killed"  (page 
923),  "A  Workhouse  Irony,"  and 
"Satires  of  Circumstance"  (pp.  924- 
925),  and  "Ah,  Are  You  Digging 
on  My  Grave?"  (page  925).  While 
several  of  the  above  have  this  sharp 
twist  which  makes  us  wince,  basi- 
cally Hardy  is  lamenting  the  loneli- 
ness and  suffering  which  all  of  us 
know  in  some  degree. 


Some  of  his  poems  have  a  sense 
of  oneness  with  nature,  a  delicacy 
and  lightness  which  we  find  in 
Shakespeare  and  Robert  Frost. 

The  very  lilt  and  word  texture  of 
Shakespeare  are  strong  in  the  poem 
"Weather"  (not  in  the  textbook), 
which  begins: 

This  is  the  weather  the  cuckoo  likes, 
And  so  do  I  ...  . 

A  fairly  representative  mid-note, 
not  gay,  is  struck  in  "The  Darkling 
Thrush,"  despite  "Winter's  dregs" 
and  the  "Century's  corpse"  (See 
text,  page  920,  lines  21-32 ) . 

In  this  poem,  as  in  "The  Oxen," 
lies  the  essential  Hardy:  lost, 
pained,  aware  "that  life  has  bared 
its  bones  to  me,"  yet  "willing  to 
give  ten  years  of  my  life  to  see  a 
ghost,"  he  was  eager  to  believe  that 
life  must  be  better  than  he  had 
found  it.  The  enduring,  the  classic 
Hardy  is  also  best  seen  in  his  simple, 
moving  "In  Time  of  The  Breaking 
of  Nations''  (page  926),  his  re- 
assuring affirmation  written  during 
the  first  world  war  in  protest  to  the 
ravages  of  war  within  the  human 
soul. 

Hardy,  the  Novelist 

For  Virginia  Woolf,  Thomas 
Hardy  is  "one  of  the  greatest  writers 
of  tragedy  in  fiction."  His  best 
novels  create  within  themselves 
great  poetic  and  dramatic  power. 
Hardy  is  a  master  storyteller  who, 
with  a  realist's  eye,  compassion,  and 
an  insight  deep  into  humanity,  in 
his  best  works,  often  told  far  better 
than  he  knew. 

The  Return  of  the  Native 
This  novel,  great  as  it  is,  might 


64 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


not  be  Hardy's  greatest;  but  certain- 
ly it  is  his  most  representative. 
Within  its  pages  we  find  humor, 
superstition,  realism,  romance,  na- 
ture, conflict,  suffering,  tragedy.  It 
illustrates  Hardy's  fundamental  be- 
lief that  "a  novel  is  an  impression, 
not  an  argument."  Herein  he  argues 
nothing:  instead  he  tells  a  great 
story  with  magnificent  power  as 
seen  through  the  eyes  of  an  observ- 
er, kindred  but  detached. 

Plot 

Lovely,  innocent  Thomasin  Yeobright 
lies  concealed  in  the  van  of  her  former 
sweetheart  Diggory  Venn,  the  reddleman 
(or  red  ocher  peddlar),  as  she  returns 
from  the  town  where  she  could  not  marry 
Damon  Wildeve  because  the  license  was 
faulty.  Wildeve  had  been  infatuated  with 
fiery  Eustacia  Vye,  and  wasn't  too  fervent 
in  his  desire  to  marry  Thomasin.  That 
same  night  Eustacia  by  building  a  huge 
bonfire  signals  Wildeve  at  his  Quiet 
Woman  Inn  to  come  to  her.  Despite  his 
vow  to  give  her  up,  he  goes  to  meet 
Eustacia,  but  each  is  unhappy.  A  boy 
reports  their  meeting  to  Diggory,  who 
pleads  with  Eustacia  to  leave  Wildeve  for 
Diggory's  beloved  Thomasin,  that  she 
might  be  happy. 

When  Thomasin's  cousin,  Clym  Yeo- 
bright ("the  native"),  returns  to  the 
heath  from  his  life  as  a  diamond  merch- 
ant in  Paris,  Eustacia  goes  disguised  to 
the  welcoming  party.  They  fall  in  love, 
and  Eustacia  marries  him  partly  because 
through  him  she  hopes  to  escape  the  dull 
life  on  the  heath.  But  Clym  becomes 
nearly  blind.  When  he  becomes  a  menial 
brush-cutter,  Eustacia  feels  degraded. 
Partly  in  resentment  she  begins  seeing 
Wildeve  again.  Clym's  mother  from  the 
beginning  of  the  affair  had  distrusted 
Eustacia  and  opposed  the  marriage.  Re- 
lenting, she  called  at  their  home,  but  be- 
cause Wildeve  was  there,  Eustacia  dared 
not  answer  her  knock.  Deeply  hurt  and 
exhausted,  Mrs.  Yeobright  begins  her  re- 
turn over  the  hot,  barren  heath,  but  is 
bitten  by  a  snake  and  dies.  When  Clym 
finds  how  she  died,  he  orders  Eustacia  out 
of  his  house.     She  returns  to  her  grand- 


father's house  in  despair  and  attempts 
suicide.  Wildeve,  now  rich  through  an 
inheritance,  pleads  with  her  to  elope  with 
him.  The  night  she  leaves  to  meet  him, 
Clym  delivers  to  her  room  a  letter  of 
reconciliation  which  she  fails  to  see.  Wan- 
dering about  on  the  dark  heath  either  she 
falls  or  jumps  into  a  pond.  Wildeve  hears 
her  death-struggle  and  attempts  to  rescue 
her,  but  both  drown. 

Here  the  original  novel  ended,  but 
when  his  public  objected  to  so  gloomy 
an  ending  Hardy  added  a  happier  one. 
Clym  gives  up  his  attempt  to  lift  up  the 
heftth-folk  by  teaching  them  and  becomes 
a  traveling  teacher,  and  the  unselfish  and 
patient  Diggory  finally  wins  Thomasin. 

Excerpts,  Characters,  Conflicts 

The  great  force  in  the  novel  is 
Eustacia,  in  conflict  with  the  time- 
less Egdon  Heath  which  has  been 
her  only  home.  In  Book  First, 
Hardy  at  once  displays  his  powers 
by  defining  its  majestic,  brooding 
splendor.  The  beginning  ''The 
heath  wore  the  appearance  of  an 
installment  of  night  .  .  .  ."  from 
chapter  I,  is  a  good  example. 

Chapter  III  contains  tangy  talk 
and  humor  of  the  heath-folk  and  re- 
veals Hardy's  delight  in  pixies, 
ghosts,  and  racy  talk.  Chapter  VII 
describes  Eustacia,  "Queen  of 
Night  .  .  .  raw  material  of  a  divin- 
ity," "Assuming  that  the  souls  of 
men  and  women  were  visible  es- 
sences, you  could  fancy  the  colour 
of  Eustacia's  soul  to  be  flame-like. 
The  sparks  from  it  that  rose  into 
her  dark  pupils  gave  the  same  im- 
pression." 

In  Book  Second,  chapter  VII, 
Diggory  brings  to  Wildeve,  Eusta- 
cia's letter  ending  their  relation,  to 
Diggory's  delight.  For  humor, 
irony,  and  reversal,  read  the  dia- 
logue in  which  Diggory  replies 
"Ru-um-tum-tum"     to     Wildeve's 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


65 


pained  questions,  only  to  have  the 
tables  completely  turned  a  minute 
later. 

In  Book  Third,  chapter  II, 
Clym's  great  love  for  humankind  is 
defined.  For  him  the  heath  gives 
"a  barbarous  satisfaction  at  observ- 
ing that,  in  some  of  the  attempts  at 
reclamation  from  the  waste,  tillage, 
after  holding  on  for  year  or  two, 
had  receded  again  in  despair,  the 
ferns  and  furze-tufts  stubbornly  re- 
asserting themselves."  He  was  the 
heath,  and  completely  at  home 
there. 

One  of  the  most  powerful  scenes 
is  in  chapter  VIII,  when  Diggory 
wins  back  from  Wildeve  all  the 
money  he  had  won  by  gambling 
from  innocent  Christian.  When  a 
death's-head  moth  snuffs  out  the 
candle,  and  feverish  Wildeve  re- 
sumes throwing  the  dice  in  a  des- 
perate effort  to  regain  his  losses— 
when  a  drove  of  wild  ponies  move 
out  of  the  gloom,  attracted  by  the 
light— then  we  have  Hardy  at  his 
realistic  best. 

For  power  of  dialogue,  read  in 
Book  Fourth  the  first  chapter, 
when  Eustacia  and  Mrs.  Yeobright, 
her  mother-in-law,  flare  up  over  a 
misunderstanding.  Here  are  two 
strong  wills  that  neither  bend  nor 
break  each  other.  Chapter  V  re- 
cords Mrs.  Yeobright's  journey 
across  the  heath,  and  the  painful 
conversation  she  tries  to  carry  on 
with  young  Johnny  Nunsuch  after 
her  son's  door  was  not  opened  to 
her.  The  innocent  bewilderment 
of  the  child,  and  the  scarcely  con- 
cealed heartbreak  of  the  rebuffed 
mother  are  highlighted  in  a  scene 
of  great  pathos  and  power,  before 
she  is  bitten  fatally  by  the  snake. 


Book  Fifth  begins  with  Clym's 
lamenting  to  Eustacia  that  his 
mother  had  never  called  on  them, 
while  she  has  not  yet  told  him  that 
Mrs.  Yeobright  had  come  to  their 
home  and  she  had  refused  to  an- 
swer the  door.  Here  the  irony  is 
indeed  painful.  Then  comes  Clym's 
blind  fury  when  he  mistakenly  feels 
that  Eustacia  was  his  mother's  mur- 
derer. The  climax  of  the  novel  is 
in  chapter  III  when  they  confront 
each  other.  Clym  accuses  Eustacia, 
and  while  she  knows,  in  part,  she  is 
guilty,  her  spirit  is  never  broken. 
In  chapter  VII  she  wanders  in  con- 
fusion into  the  chaotic  night.  In 
chapter  IX  Wildeve  and  Clym 
hear  her  fall  into  the  weir;  both  she 
and  Wildeve  are  drowned.  (Read 
what  Clym  says  to  Diggory  as  he 
looks  at  their  bodies.) 

Book  Sixth  contains  the  tacked- 
on  happy  ending,  in  which  Thomas- 
in  marries  Diggory. 

In  this  novel,  then,  are  blended 
into  one  unified  whole  the  scene, 
character,  dialogue,  theme,  which 
embody  Hardy's  central  conviction: 
Oh,  would  that  man  could  be  hap- 
py here  below.  But,  as  we  witness 
the  suffering,  which  is  man's  by  his 
very  nature,  let  us  sympathize  with 
our  fellows,  and  stand  in  awe  of  the 
existence  which  seems  to  shape  us 
to  its  own  indifferent  ends. 


Thoughts  for  Discussion 


i.  What  qualities  must  a  writer  possess 
to  write  great  poetry  and  great  fiction? 

2.  What  factors  in  Hardy's  life  are  re- 
flected in  his  writings? 

3.  Discuss  Hardy's  attitude  toward  na- 
ture ( 1 )  in  his  poetry;  ( 2 )  in  The  Return 
of  the  Native. 

4.  What  effect  might  an  understanding 
of  the  gospel  have  had  on  Hardy's  life? 


Social  Science — The  Constitution 
of  the  United  States 


Lesson  20— The  Constitution  and  World  Affairs 

Elder  Albert  R.  Bowen 

For  Tuesday,  April  24,  1956 

Objective:  To  show  how  the  United  States  evolved  and  developed  from  weakness 
to  strength  under  a  policy  inaugurated  by  Washington,  and  to  consider  our  country  in 
relation  to  world  affairs  since  World  War  I. 


Transition  of  the  Nation  From 
Weakness  to  Strength 

TOURING  the  first  century  and  a 
quarter  of  her  constitutional 
history,  the  United  States  developed 
from  a  position  of  perilous  weakness 
to  become  the  mightiest  Nation  the 
world  has  ever  seen.  This  transition 
from  weakness  to  strength  is  one  of 
the  greatest  political  miracles  of  the 
modern  world. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the 
position  of  the  United  States  among 
the  nations  is  the  result  of  fortuitous 
accident.  It  has  come  about  be- 
cause of  wise  and  statesmanlike  lead- 
ership aided  by  Divine  Providence. 

It  often  happens,  not  only  in  the 
affairs  of  men  but  likewise  of  na- 
tions, that  the  beginnings  are  of 
crucial  importance.  In  order  to  gain 
a  better  understanding  of  our  na- 
tional beginnings  it  should  be  use- 
ful to  review  the  circumstances  of 
our  national  birth.  America  did  not 
arrive  upon  the  world  scene  a  strong 
and  robust  infant.  The  contrary 
was  the  fact-  In  all  categories  by 
which  greatness  in  nations  is  meas- 
ured, except  one,  we  were  terribly 
weak  and  vulnerable.  Our  popula- 
tion was  small,  about  four  million, 

Page  66 


by  1789.  We  possessed  no  great 
cities  nor  centers  of  population  and 
industry.  The  Nation  was  virtually 
without  money  or  credit.  We  had 
no  armed  strength  which  deserved 
mention  measured  in  terms  of 
world  power.  Such  population  as 
we  possessed  was  widely  scattered 
with  difficulties  of  travel  and  com- 
munication between  each  widely 
separated  section  almost  insur- 
mountable. 

It  is  difficult  to  imagine  in  what 
way  foreign  invasion  could  have 
been  successfully  defended  against 
in  those  early  years,  if  undertaken 
by  a  strong,  well-armed,  and  de- 
termined power.  Threats  of  such 
attacks  were  very  narrowly  averted 
on  many  occasions. 

Wisdom  of  Early  Leaders 

In  one  quality,  however,  the  Unit- 
ed States  possessed  an  abundant 
superiority.  That  superiority  was 
founded  in  the  wisdom  of  her  great 
early  leaders,  headed  by  Washing- 
ton. Beginning  with  Washington, 
the  United  States  launched  upon 
her  world  journey,  carefully  steering 
a  course  the  results  of  which  bear 
eloquent  testimony  to  the  greatness 
of  her  leadership.    It  should  not  be 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


67 


deemed  out  of  place  to  suggest  at 
this  point  that  we  have  not  always 
followed  as  wisely  as  we  were  led. 
It  should  likewise  not  be  considered 
out  of  place  to  suggest  that  the  per- 
ils of  our  day  are  as  great  as  those 
of  Washington's  day,  and  require  as 
enlightened  a  leadership  as  in  any 
iod  of  our  history. 

Constitutional  History,  1789-1800 

The  constitutional  history  of  the 
United  States,  in  relation  to  world 
events,  may  be  divided  into  three 
phases  or  periods.  The  first  of 
these  periods  was  from  about  1789 
to  1800.  This  period  might  be 
characterized  as  the  period  during 
which  the  United  States  was  strug- 
gling to  escape  from  the  toils  of 
European  entanglements. 

Principle  of  Neutrality 

It  will  be  remembered  that  dur- 
ing the  perilous  days  of  the  Revolu- 
tion we  entered  into  an  alliance 
with  France-  This  was  implement- 
ed by  two  treaties.  One  a  treaty  of 
friendship;  and,  two,  an  alliance 
which  required  each  party  to  come 
to  the  aid  of  the  other  in  case  of 
attack.  When  France,  under  Na- 
poleon, became  involved  with  the 
rest  of  Europe  in  a  series  of  wars, 
she  remembered  the  American 
treaty,  and  demanded  that  the 
United  States  should  enter  those 
wars  as  her  ally  in  return  for  the 
help  she  had  rendered  during  the 
Revolution.  In  1793,  Washington 
and  his  Cabinet,  after  very  carefully 
weighing  the  provisions  of  the  trea- 
ty, concluded  that  its  terms  did  not 
require  the  United  States  to  enter 
this  war  on  the  side  of  France.  It 
was  firmly  decided  that  the  United 
States  would  remain  neutral. 


There  followed  a  period  of  sev- 
eral years  during  which  the  Ameri- 
can Nation  had  to  suffer  great  in- 
dignity at  the  hands  of  both  Britain 
and  France  in  asserting  and  attempt- 
ing to  uphold  the  principle  of  neu- 
trality and  free  trade.  American 
shipping,  property,  and  citizens  were 
seized  with  contemptuous  impunity, 
and  many  American  sailors  were  im- 
pressed to  fight  in  British  warships 
against  the  French. 

In  spite  of  the  insults  and  the 
great  injuries  suffered,  the  United 
States  steadfastly  refused  to  recede 
from  its  position  of  neutrality  and 
continued  to  protest  and  assert  its 
citizens'  right  to  free  access  to  the 
markets  of  the  world  as  non-belliger- 
ent and  peaceful  traders.  This  pol- 
icy was  maintained  despite  the  de- 
mands of  many  Americans  who 
were  sympathetic  to  the  French 
cause  and  who  would  have  fought 
with  France  against  England. 

In  his  Farewell  Address,  Wash- 
ington laid  down  the  principles  of 
American  foreign  policy  which  were 
adhered  to  by  succeeding  adminis- 
trations from  that  time  until  World 
War  I.  His  philosophy  of  neutral- 
ity is  expressed  in  this  language: 

In  the  execution  of  such  a  plan  [neu- 
trality] nothing  is  more  essential  than  that 
permanent,  inveterate  antipathies  against 
particular  nations  and  passionate  attach- 
ments for  others  should  be  excluded;  and 
that,  in  place  of  them,  just  the  amiable 
feelings  towards  all  should  be  cultivated. 
.  .  .  The  nation  which  indulges  towards 
another  an  habitual  hatred  or  an  habitual 
fondness  is  in  some  degree  a  slave.  It  is 
a  slave  to  its  animosity  or  to  its  affection, 
either  of  which  is  sufficient  to  lead  it 
astray  from  its  duty  and  its  interest. 

It  should  not  be  supposed  that 
this  American  policy  laid  down  by 
Washington  emerged  spontaneous- 


68 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


ly.  It  was  the  result  of  experience 
coupled  with  great  wisdom  and  fore- 
sight on  the  part  of  the  Nation's 
leaders  who  announced  it.  It  is  an 
historical  fact  that  the  colonies  of 
England  in  the  New  World  had 
been  drawn  into  every  European 
quarrel  which  England  entered  be- 
fore the  Revolution,  beginning  with 
King  William's  War,  in  1689,  and 
ending  with  the  French  and  Indian 
War  in  1763  in  which  Washington 
himself  had  fought.  In  all  of  those 
struggles  the  colonies  suffered  seri- 
ous loss  in  life  and  property  and 
had  received  no  compensating  gain 
of  any  kind.  At  the  end  of  each  of 
those  wars  the  peace  was  made  in 
Europe  without  consulting  Ameri- 
cans, and  the  situation,  so  far  as  it 
concerned  Americans,  was  returned 
to  the  same  position  as  before  the 
struggle  was  commenced.  These 
wars  were  primarily  dynastic  quar- 
rels involving  Britain,  France,  Spain, 
and  Austria.  Our  forefathers  learned 
by  bitter  experience  that  it  was  a 
costly  and  profitless  adventure  to 
fight  in  the  quarrels  of  Europe- 
Thus  equipped  with  the  lessons  of 
the  past,  Washington  and  those 
who  followed  him,  determined  that 
the  strength  and  vitality  of  the  new 
Nation  should  not  be  dissipated  by 
taking  sides  in  foreign  wars. 

In  his  Farewell  Address,  Wash- 
ington made  the  shrewd  and  states- 
manlike prediction  that  if  America 
adhered  strictly  to  her  own  concerns 
and  followed  a  policy  of  friendship 
toward  all  nations,  that  day  would 
come  when  America  would  be 
strong  and  independent,  capable  of 
following  an  independent  course  of 
action. 

He  said: 


If  we  remain  one  people,  under  an  ef- 
ficient government,  the  period  is  not  far 
off,  when  we  may  defy  material  injury 
from  external  annoyance;  when  we  may 
take  such  an  attitude  as  will  cause  the 
neutrality  we  may  at  any  time  resolve  up- 
on to  be  scrupulously  respected.  When 
belligerent  nations,  under  the  impossibil- 
ity of  making  acquisitions  upon  us,  will 
not  lightly  hazard  the  giving  us  provoca- 
tion when  we  may  choose  peace  or  war, 
as  our  interest,  guided  by  our  justice, 
shall  counsel  .... 

The  wisdom,  the  foresight,  and 

the  sagacity  of  Washington  and  his 

successors  have  been  so  abundantly 

proved   by  events,   as  to   leave   no 

room  for  doubt  or  disagreement. 

Constitutional  History, 
1800-1917 

During  the  Nineteenth  Century, 
the  predictions  of  Washington  be- 
came a  reality.  The  Monroe  Doc- 
trine was  announced  in  1823,  which 
excluded  the  European  nations  from 
further  acquisitions  of  territory  in 
the  New  World.  In  the  meantime, 
the  borders  of  the  United  States 
were  widened  until  they  encom- 
passed all  territory  between  the  At- 
lantic and  the  Pacific.  The  Ameri- 
can policy  of  neutrality  was  strength- 
ened, the  doctrine  of  Freedom  of 
the  Seas  was  developed  and  success- 
fully asserted.  America  was  not  in- 
volved in  a  single  non-American  war 
until  World  War  I. 

Constitutional  History,  1917— 

With  World  War  I  we  began  the 
third  phase  of  American  world  af- 
fairs. We  have  completely,  or  near- 
ly so,  reversed  our  traditional  world 
policy  until  now  our  commitments 
and  responsibilities  have  become 
world-wide.  We  are  furthermore 
committed  to  a  whole  series  of  al- 
liances and  treaties  which  bind  us 
to  the  fate  of  other  nations,  and 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


69 


which  have  destroyed  the  freedom 
of  action  which  we  enjoyed  during 
the  great  development  of  our  coun- 
try into  a  mighty  world  power.  The 
question  we  must  now  ask  ourselves 
is,  where  is  this  new  American 
world  policy  leading  us? 

Under  the  Constitution  the  con- 
duct of  our  foreign  affairs  is  divided 
between  the  President  of  the  Unit- 
ed States  and  Congress.  To  the 
President  is  given  the  command  of 
our  armed  forces,  and  upon  him  is 
placed  the  responsibility  of  defend- 
ing and  protecting  the  Nation  from 
external  attack.  To  Congress,  how- 
ever, is  committed  the  power  to  de- 
clare war. 

Emergency  Powers  oi 
the  President 

Congress  has  conferred  upon  the 
President  many  powers  that  the  Ex- 
ecutive may  use  only  in  time  of 
"emergency."  There  has  been,  and 
continues  to  be,  great  controversy 
over  these  powers,  but  it  is  generally 
agreed  that  the  President  decides 
what  shall  be  regarded  as  an 
"emergency"  However,  it  is  clear 
that  the  President  uses  these  pow- 
ers mainly  in  times  of  foreign  dan- 
ger or  periods  of  economic  depres- 
sion. 

President  J.  Reuben  Clark,  Jr.  in 
his  address  (November  21,  1952) 
entitled  "Let  Us  Not  Sell  Our  Chil- 
dren Into  Slavery,"  warns  the  Na- 
tion against  the  augmentation  of  the 
President's  war  powers,  beyond  the 
provisions  of  the  Constitution.  He 
reminds  us  that  the  war  powers 
prescribed  by  the  Constitution  are 
all  in  Congress,  except,  of  course, 
that  the  President  is  Commander 
in  Chief  of  the  Armed  Forces. 

.  .   .  But  when   that  body   [Congress] 


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passes  laws  to  implement  these  powers, 
then  the  execution  of  these  laws  becomes 
the  duty  and  responsibility  of  the  Chief 
Executive,  and  the  powers  granted  by  such 
laws,  and  only  those  so  granted,  consti- 
tute the  war  powers  of  the  President  as 
Chief  Executive.  But  none  of  such  pow- 
ers are  inherent  in  the  office  of  the  Chief 
Executive  .... 

But  as  our  laws  show,  such  Chief  Ex- 
ecutive powers  (conferred  upon  him  by 
Congress  in  time  of  war)  may  be  of  the 
widest  scope,  including  provisions  deroga- 
tory and  even  largely  destructive  of  the 
ordinary  peace-time  civil  rights  of  indi- 
viduals. 

However,  to  repeat,  this  authority  and 
these  powers  are  to  be  measured  exclusive- 
ly by  the  express  statutory  enactments  of 
the  Congress  ...  as  specifically  author- 
ized by  Constitutional  provision.  They  are 
not  to  be  considered  as  growing  out  of, 
or  in  any  necessary  way,  concerned  with, 
related  to,  or  enlarged  by  his  powers  as 
Commander  in  Chief   .... 

It  is  wholly  governed  by  Constitutional 
provision  and  limitation.  Thus-far-shalt- 
thou-go-and-no-farther  is  inherent  in  the 
whole  situation  (Clark:  J.  Reuben,  Jr., 
"Let  Us  Not  Sell  Our  Children  Into 
Slavery"). 

Treaty  Making  Power 

The  treaty-making  power  under 
the  Constitution  is  likewise  divided. 
It  is  the  duty  and  prerogative  of 
the  Presidential  Office  to  negotiate 
treaties,  to  appoint  all  ambassadors, 
consular  officers,  and  representa- 
tives, and  to  conduct  our  foreign  af- 
fairs. All  treaties  and  diplomatic 
appointments  are  subject  to  Senate 
ratification.  It  is  interesting  to  see 
how  this  constitutional  authority, 
divided  as  it  is,  has  worked  out  in 
actual  practice. 

Commitment  of  Armed  Forces 
Previous  to  Declaration  of  War 
As    far   as    the    wars    in    which 


America  has  been  involved  are  con- 
cerned, declaration  of  war  in  every 
case,  except  one,  has  followed  the 
commitment  of  our  armed  forces 
to  action  by  the  President.  The  sole 
exception  was  the  war  of  1812. 
American  armed  forces  have  been 
sent  abroad  into  action  over  one 
hundred  times  in  engagements  too 
limited  in  scope  to  be  defined  as 
war.  Our  recent  experience  in  the 
Korean  War  is  a  case  in  point. 
United  States  troops  were  ordered 
into  action  with  no  previous  con- 
sultation of  Congress  whatsoever. 
In  the  case  of  World  War  II,  ag- 
gressive, war-like  action  was  under- 
taken upon  presidential  order  far  in 
advance  of  war  declaration. 

Intention  oi  Founding  Fathers 

It  was  not  intended  by  the  Found- 
ing Fathers  that  the  presidential 
authority  should  extend  to  making 
war  without  the  action  of  Congress 
to  approve  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  was  also  not  intended  that  the 
hands  of  the  President  should  be 
helplessly  tied  in  the  event  world 
crises  made  it  imperative,  in  the 
face  of  national  peril,  to  use  the 
Nation's  armed  forces  to  repel  at- 
tack or  to  prevent  a  threatened  at- 
tack from  becoming  successful. 

In  this  sphere  of  constitutional 
function  it  was  impossible  to  draw 
the  lines  sharply  and  with  absolute 
certainty.  Under  these  conditions 
the  personality  of  the  President  is 
of  unique  and  very  special  impor- 
tance. Our  history  has  proved  that 
the  United  States  can  be  commit- 
ted to  war  by  the  President.  Once 
we  are  so  committed  it  is  very  dif- 
ficult if  not  impossible  to  withdraw. 

In  the  case  of  Korea,  perhaps,  it 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


71 


may  be  said  that  the  President  acted 
to  meet  a  situation  requiring  instant 
decision.  Without  debating  the 
merits  of  the  Korean  War  or  of  any 
other  war  in  which  the  United 
States  has  been  engaged  in  the  past, 
one  thing  at  least  stands  out  with 
crystal  clarity— may  heaven  preserve 
us  from  the  misfortune  of  an  irre- 
sponsible, ambitious  President  who 
could,  without  our  consent,  involve 
us  in  foreign  adventures  which 
could  result  in  our  destruction! 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the 
conditions  of  this  modern  world 
are  so  critical  and  so  pressing  that 
strong,  decisive,  speedy  action  is  of- 
ten necessary.  The  President  alone 
can  provide  this  kind  of  action. 
Consequently  many  are  willing  to 
give  very  far-reaching  powers  to  the 
President.  Others  fear  our  republi- 
can form  of  Government  cannot  be 
maintained  if  further,  stronger  pow- 
ers are  placed  in  the  hands  of  one 
Executive.  Thoughtful  citizens 
therefore  fear  future  misuse  of  such 
near-absolute  power  and  must  know 
constitutional  provisions  for  separa- 
tion of  powers,  checks  and  balances, 
in  order  to  vote  intelligently  for 
men  who  will  act  to  keep  the  word 
and  spirit  of  the  Constitution. 

Questions  on  the  Lesson 

i.  What  was  Washington's  foreign  pol- 
icy? 

2.  Why  did  he  adopt  such  a  policy? 

3.  What  are  the  three  phases  of  the 
Constitutional  history  of  the  United 
States  in  relation  to  world  affairs? 

4.  What  had  been  this  country's  ex- 
perience in  foreign  relations  before  the 
Constitution? 

5.  What  does  the  term  "Freedom  of 
the  Seas"  mean? 

6.  What  is  the  Monroe  Doctrine? 


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RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— JANUARY  1956 


7.  How  does  presidential  action  under 
the  Constitution  affect  war  or  peace  in 
America?  What  is  the  function  of  the 
President  in  time  of  danger?  What  is  the 
function  of  Congress  at  such  times? 

8.  In  the  history  of  the  United  States 
has  war  followed  a  declaration  by  Con- 
gress or  preceded  it? 

9.  Why  is  the  personality  of  the  Presi- 
dent important  to  the  question  of  war 
or  peace? 


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VOL  43  NO.  2 
Lessons  for  May 
FEBRUARY    1956 


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Dorothy  J.  Roberts 


Not  inexorable  in  their  power, 

The  years  and  distance  lend  a  still,  white  hour. 

On  mounded  hush,  you  cross,  and  leave  no  trace, 
The  long  way  back  to  me  through  time  and  place. 

And  far  beyond  the  field's  unsullied  snow 
You  lead  me  to  the  land  of  long  ago— 

The  rutted  lane,  the  gelding's  crystal  track. 
By  these  familiar  places  I  come  back 

To  humped  canal  and  quilted  arc  of  hill. 
A  tingling  pulse  denies  the  evening  chill. 

Companioned  still,  I  mark  the  winter  dune; 
In  your  eyes  pool  again  the  opal  moon. 

On  blades  of  steel  I  sign  the  frozen  pond, 

Your  crossed  hands  clasping  mine  in  mittened  bond. 

Your  words  are  vapor  on  the  frosty  night; 
Each  murmur  but  a  passing  mist  of  white. 

With  muted  step  along  the  fettered  streams, 
I  walk  with  you  the  land  of  youth  and  dreams. 


The  Cover:  Flats  and  Old  Windmill  Relic  in  Wickham  Terrace 
Brisbane,  Queensland,  Australia 

Photograph  Courtesy  Australian  National  Publicity  Association 
Submitted  by  Leah  Liljenquist 

Frontispiece:  Mount  Olympus,  Utah,  and  Meadow  Land  in  Winter 
Photograph  by  Peterson  Studios,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 


Page  73 


C/rom    I  Lear  and  QJar 


May  I  tell  you  how  much  I  like  the 
article  "Wearing  a  Pretty  Face,"  by  Mabel 
Law  Atkinson,  in  the  October  1955  issue 
of  the  Magazine.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
inspiring  features  I  have  ever  read.  I  am 
reminded  that  time  for  New  Year's  reso- 
lutions is  drawing  near,  and  among  those 
which  I  shall  make  I  shall  incorporate  the 
philosophy  contained  in  Mrs*.  Atkinson's 
article.  And  just  to  make  certain  that  I 
remember  to  wear  a  pretty  face  myself, 
I  shall  keep  a  copy  of  the  October  Maga- 
zine handy  so  that  I  can  refer  to  it  often. 

— Edna  Day 

Idaho  Falls,  Idaho 


I  particularly  enjoyed  the  story  "The 
Scarlet  Cloak  of  Love,"  by  Lane  Stanaway 
Christian  in  the  December  Magazine,  and 
also  the  lovely  poem  "Christmas  Night," 
by  Eva  Willes  Wangsgaard.  The  poem  is 
an  exquisite  piece  with  a  deeper  meaning 
implied!  I  was  proud  to  be  in  the  same 
issue  with  that  fine  work! 

— Maude  Rubin 


Santa  Ana,  California 


I  was  proud  of  the  story  "The  Scarlet 
Cloak  of  Love,"  by  Lane  Stanaway  Christ- 
ian in  the  December  issue  of  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine,  and  the  poem  "The 
Greater  Part,"  by  Delia  Adams  Leitner, 
my  Idaho  friends.  I  also  enjoyed  the 
article  "Mother  Had  a  Way,"  by  Leone 
E.  McCune.  I  met  her  at  a  writer's  con- 
vention in  Logan  some  time  ago.  By 
way  of  commendation  for  the  literature 
lessons,  I  might  say  that  while  attending 
a  convention  in  Boise  last  fall,  I  was  seat- 
ed between  two  college  professors,  teach- 
ers of  English  literature.  During  the  din- 
ner their  conversation  turned  to  the  great 
writers  of  the  ages.  I  was  surely  appre- 
ciative of  the  fine  course  of  study  which 
has  been  given  us  in  the  literature  les- 
sons, for  I  was  able  to  follow  them  and 
join  in  the  conversation. 

■ — Frances  C.  Yost 


Bancroft,  Idaho 


I  like  the  serial  "Hermanas"  currently 
running  in  The  Relief  Society  Magazine 
very  well.  It  has  more  to  it  than  some 
of  the  other  serials  have  had,  and  its  ef- 
fectiveness is  enhanced  by  the  foreign  set- 
ting. It  is  beautifully  written,  and  the 
Church  element  is  brought  in  naturally — 
not  thrown  in. 

— Dorothy  Clapp  Robinson 

Boise,  Idaho 

I  especially  enjoyed  and  appreciated  the 
short  articles  in  the  August  issue.  How 
simply  stated,  yet  how  powerful  are  the 
sermons  without  preaching  in  "Light 
Bulbs,"  by  Elsie  Scott;  "An  Invisible 
Means  of  Support,"  by  Caroline  E.  Min- 
er; "Watchers,"  by  Kate  Richards  (I 
needed  this);  "Trouble,"  by  Lucille  R. 
Taylor;  "A  Song  of  the  Heart"  (lovely, 
lovely),  by  Elsie  Sim  Hansen;  and  "Look 
to  the  Mountains,"  by  Blanche  Johnson. 
How  beautifully  and  effectively  stated  are 
the  timeless  values  in  "Family  Patterns" 
(editorial  by  Marianne  C.  Sharp).  My 
heart  sang  a  prayer  of  gratitude  as  I  read 
it.  Since  that  first  reading  I  have  reread 
it  many  times  and  have  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  glorious  possibilities  that  are  mine 
as  a  mother  and  grandmother  —  and  I 
hope  a  great-grandmother.  I  am  glad  for 
the  help  this  article  gave  me  in  teaching 
these  truths  to  my  group  in  our  home. 
I  am  deeply  appreciative  for  all  the  help 
we  receive  in  our  effort  to  get  our  own 
to  see  the  importance  of  courtship,  its 
sacredness  and  meaning  in  the  joyous 
married  life  anticipated.  Surely  our  lead- 
ers are  inspired  in  the  messages  they  give 
us  through  our  Magazine  from  time  to 
time. 

■ — Mabel  Law  Atkinson 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

We  certainly  appreciate  The  Relief  So- 
ciety Magazine  and  receive  much  joy  and 
instruction  from  reading  through  each 
publication. 

— Asael  T.  Sorensen 

President 
Brazilian  Mission 
Sao  Paulo,  Brazil 


Page  74 


THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 

Monthly   Publication   of  the  Relief    Society   of   The   Church   of   Jesus  Christ  of   Latter-day    Saints 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  GENERAL  BOARD 
Belle  S.   Spafford  -------  President 

Marianne  C.   Sharp  -  First  Counselor 

Velma  N.  Simonsen  -----      Second  Counselor 

Margaret  C.  Pickering       -----  Secretary-Treasurer 
Anna  B.  Hart  Leone  O.  Jacobs  Mildred  B.  Eyring  Winniefred  S. 

Edith  S.  Elliott  Louise  W.  Madsen  Helen  W.  Anderson  Manwaring 

Florence  J.  Madsen  Aleine  M.  Young  Gladys  S.  Boyer  Elna  P.  Haymond 

Leone  G.  Layton  Josie  B.  Bay  Charlotte  A.  Larsen  Annie  M.  Ellsworth 

Blanche  B.  Stoddard  Christine  H.  Robinson     Edith  P.  Backman  Mary  R.    Young 

Evon  W.  Peterson  Alberta  H.  Christensen 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 
Editor  ------------  Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Associate  Editor Vesta  P    Crawford 

General  Manager  ----- Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.  43  FEBRUARY  1956  No.  2 


e 


on  tents 


SPECIAL  FEATURES 

Leadership  Adam  S.   Bennion  76 

The  Australian   Mission   Preston   Nibley  88 

Tribute  to  the  Visiting  Teachers  Wanda  Pexton  103 

The   Majestic  View  Ruth   Wilson  103 

World  of  Three  Nell  Murbarger  104 

Table  Decorations  for  Anniversary  Day  Inez  R.  Allen  106 

FICTION 

Keep  Me  Forever  —  Second  Prize  Story  Margaret  Hardy     82 

There  Is  Still  Time  —  Chapter   1  Margery  S.  Stewart     90 

Hermanas  —  Chapter  8  —  Conclusion  Fay  Tarlock  111 

GENERAL  FEATURES 

From  Near  and  Far  74 

Sixty  Years   Ago  96 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.  Cannon     97 

Editorial:   Anniversary  Day  Belle   S.   Spafford     98 

In  Memoriam  —  Mary  Grant  Judd  100 

Birthday  Congratulations  to  Former  President  Amy  Brown  Lyman  100 

Notes  to  the  Field:  Notes  From  the  Field  Should  Be  Submitted  Promptly  101 

Programs  for  Anniversary  Day  -" 101 

Notes  From  the  Field:  Relief  Society  Activities  Margaret  C.   Pickering  118 

FEATURES  FOR  THE  HOME 

Recipes  From  Australia  Irene  T.   Erekson   102 

Salads  for  Health  and  Beauty  Rhea  H.  Gardner  108 

Mary   Blanchard  Williams  Decorates   Cakes   110 

Miniature  Plants  Elizabeth  Williamson  117 

LESSONS  FOR  MAY 

Theology:  Christ  Among  the  Nephites  Leland  H.  Monson  122 

Visiting  Teacher  Messages:    ".    .    .    For  Behold,   Ye  Are   Free;    Ye   Are   Permitted   to  Act   For 

Yourselves"    Edith    S.    Elliott   127 

Work  Meeting:   Salads  Rhea   H.    Gardner  128 

Literature:   Review  of  English  Literature Briant  S.    Jacobs   130 

Social  Science:  The  Fruits  of  Freedom  Albert  R.  Bowen  137 

POETRY 

Still,  White  Hour  —  Frontispiece  Dorothy  J.   Roberts  73 

Snowscape  Eva  Willes  Wangsgaard  81 

Snow  Christie  Lund  Coles  95 

"Down   Under"   Ruth   MacKay  103 

Prairie  Winter  Grace  Barker  Wilson  109 

Time  Mabel   Jones   Gabbott  110 

Retrospect  Anna   Rice  121 

My  New  Home  Pearl  D.   Bringhurst  144 

Rocketeer  Maude  Rubin  144 

PUBLISHED  MONTHLY  BY  THE  GENERAL  BOARD  OF  RELIEF  SOCIETY 

Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah,  Phone  EM  4-2511  ;  Sub- 
scriptions 246;  Editorial  Dept.  245.  Subscription  Price:  $1.50  a  year;  foreign,  $2.00  a  year, 
payable  in  advance.  Single  copy,  15c.  The  Magazine  is  not  sent  after  subscription  expires.  No 
back  numbers  can  be  supplied.  Renew  promptly  so  that  no  copies  will  be  missed.  Report  change 
of  address  at  once,  giving  old  and  new  address. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  February  18,  1914,  at  the  Post  Office,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  under 
the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Acceptance  for  mailing  at  special  rate  of  postage  provided  for  in 
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unless  return  postage  is  enclosed.  Rejected  manuscripts  will  be  retained  for  six  months  only. 
The  Magazine  is  not  responsible  for  unsolicited  manuscripts. 

Page  75 


Leadership 

Elder  Adam  S.  Bennion 
Of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve 

[Address  Delivered  at  the  Annual   General   Relief  Society  Conference, 

September  28,  1955] 


SISTER  Spafford,  Sister  McKay, 
I  think  it  was  Elbert  Hubbard 
once  who  was  asked,  "Is  a 
woman  as  good  as  a  man?"  and  he 
made  that  classic  remark,  "She  is 
if  she  is."  Now,  having  heard  these 
singers  and  these  speakers,  they  are! 

It  is  an  honor  to  be  here.  The 
comprehensiveness  of  the  presenta- 
tions, the  loveliness  of  this  music- 
Berkeley  is  a  kind  of  second  home 
to  me,  and  I'd  like  these  lovely 
ladies  to  go  back  with  my  tribute 
that  this  has  been  some  of  the  most 
beautiful  music  I  have  ever  heard— 
and  to  think  that  it  comes  from 
one  of  the  stakes  of  Zion— this  is  a 
wonderful  Church. 

I  have  been  assigned  a  subject- 
there  are  many  things  which  I  think 
I  should  like  to  talk  about  this 
morning— but  I  have  been  given  the 
subject  of  leadership.  I  hesitate  to 
launch  it  because  you  do  such  an 
eminently  good  job,  I  know  you 
are  wonderfully  well  led,  and  all 
of  you  are  the  leaders  of  this  great 
organization. 

Since  childhood,  I  have  been 
brought  up  on  the  sanctity  of  the 
Relief  Society  tradition,  the  tradi- 
tion of  helpful,  unselfish  service. 
Sister  Bennion  always  insists  this  is 
the  finest  organization  in  the 
Church,  and  though  I  am  a  Sunday 
School  man,  we  never  quarrel. 

Here  is  an  institution  which  all 
through  its  illustrious  history  has 
been  guided  by  the  inspiration  of 

Page  76 


leadership.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I 
am  impressed  that  good  leadership 
is  the  key  to  every  organization  that 
succeeds.  Civilization  over  and  over 
bears  witness  that  that  statement  is 
true.  Try  to  imagine  the  advance- 
ment of  Greece  without  Plato  and 
Socrates  and  Aristotle.  Think  of 
Rome  without  her  Caesar  and  her 
Cicero,  or  England  without  Glad- 
stone, Disraeli,  the  Pitts,  and 
Churchill.  And  what  might  Ameri- 
ca have  been  or  not  have  been 
without  Washington,  Jefferson, 
Hamilton,  and  Lincoln? 

I  have  thought  of  the  progress  of 
this  great  organization.  You  try  to 
think  of  it  without  the  achieving 
inspiration  of  such  leaders  as  Emma 
Smith,  Eliza  R.  Snow,  Zina  D.  H. 
Young,  Bathsheba  Smith,  Emme- 
line  B.  Wells,  Clarissa  S.  Williams, 
Louise  Y.  Robison,  Amy  Brown  Ly- 
man, and  Belle  S.  Spafford.  A  man 
is  proud  to  pay  tribute  to  that  kind 
of  women  leaders  in  very  deed. 

Leadership  has  made  this  organ- 
ization memorable  all  through  the 
history  of  the  Church  throughout 
the  stakes  and  down  through  the 
wards.  Week  after  week,  as  we  go 
out  to  these  conferences,  we  thrill 
at  the  goodness  of  the  people.  It 
is  wonderful  to  come  into  an  audi- 
ence like  this.  That  roll  call  to  me 
was  tremendous.  I  could  not  af- 
ford to  sit  and  let  one  stake  detract 
from  a  one-hundred-per-cent  re- 
sponse. 


LEADERSHIP 


77 


VfOW,  under  your  gracious  invita- 
tion, you  want  to  become  still 
better  leaders,  and  you  give  to  me 
the  invitation  to  think  through  for 
a  few  minutes  with  you  what  it  is 
that  makes  for  leadership  and  the 
development  of  power  in  it.  I  am 
mindful  that  leaders  are  born  as 
well  as  made,  and  we  cannot  all  be 
equally  strong.  You  remember  the 
words  of  Abraham: 

Now  the  Lord  had  shown  unto  me, 
Abraham,  the  intelligences  that  were  or- 
ganized before  the  world  was;  and  among 
all  these  there  were  many  of  the  noble 
and  great  ones; 

And  God  saw  these  souls  that  they 
were  good,  and  he  stood  in  the  midst  of 
them,  and  he  said:  These  I  will  make  my 
rulers;  for  he  stood  among  those  that 
were  spirits,  and  he  saw  that  they  were 
good;  and  he  said  unto  me:  Abraham, 
thou  art  one  of  them;  thou  wast  chosen 
before  thou  wast  born  (  P.  of  G.  P.,  Book 
of  Abraham  3:22-23). 

No  one  can  read  the  history  of 
God's  work  and  not  know  that  he 
has  chosen  his  inspired  leaders.  We 
cannot  all  reach  the  heights  of  Abra- 
ham, but  we  can  all  add  to  our 
stature.  Under  stimulation  and  di- 
rection, we  can  more  nearly  ap- 
proach our  potential,  and  so,  if  I 
may  enjoy  the  spirit  of  this  remark- 
able occasion,  and  the  spirit  of  the 
Lord,  I  should  like  to  offer  you  five 
suggestions  which  we  have  de- 
veloped in  the  last  quarter  of  a 
century  in  the  world  of  business  as 
we  have  undertaken  to  build  lead- 
ers in  a  great  organization. 

I  come  to  you  today  with  the 
conviction  that  the  principles,  the 
basic  principles,  hold  in  religious 
circles  quite  as  they  do  in  secular 
realms.  These  suggestions  are  a 
little  homely;  they  have  come  from 


men  who  have  achieved.  They  are 
from  sales  managers  and  plant  su- 
perintendents, crew  foremen  in  a 
workaday  world,  and  they  smack 
a  little  of  the  earth.  They  are 
couched  in  terms  of  the  shop  and 
the  field;  they  are  in  the  language 
of  your  sons  who  earn  their  bread 
by  the  sweat  of  their  faces.  I  have 
to  ask  a  little  indulgence.  I  have 
debated  whether  I  should  do  this. 
I  am  talking  to  a  group  of  lovely 
and  refined  women,  and  I  am  going 
to  bring  you  some  English  that  isn't 
of  my  training  (that  used  to  be  my 
major  field,  and  so  I  am  aware  of 
the  colloquialisms),  but  I  like  the 
effectiveness  of  the  way  these  men 
have  said  these  things.  And  so  will 
you  take  them,  right  off  the  vine, 
and  if  you  are  a  little  annoyed  at 
them,  you  refine  them,  will  you?  I 
am  sure  the  sense  is  good;  the  words 
are  a  little  on  the  rough  side.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  I  bring  them  to  you 
in  a  sort  of  recipe.  I  left  the  house 
this  morning  with  the  odor  of  chili 
sauce  in  my  nostrils. 

I  was  impressed,  Sister  Romney, 
with  your  description  of  Central 
America  —  I  want  to  see  that  some 
time,  but  I  want  to  tell  you  in  the 
fall  of  the  year,  it's  hard  to  beat 
chili  sauce. 

Now,  will  you  let  me  bring  you 
a  homely  kind  of  recipe.  This 
almost  smacks  of  chili,  too. 

I7IVE  suggestions  which  have  been 
given  me,  and  which  have  been 
worked  out,  and  which  have  been 
translated  into  courses  of  leader- 
ship. I  take  you  where  you  are;  I 
bid  you  to  aspire  to  be  stronger  to- 
morrow than  you  are  today,  and  in 
that  spirit,  I  bring  you  these  sug- 
gestions: 


78 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


1.  You  gotta  know  your  stuff. 

2.  You  gotta  understand  people. 

3.  You  gotta  spread  a  contagion. 

4.  You  gotta  see  through  today 
to  tomorrow. 

5.  You  gotta  have  help. 

VTOW,  you  needn't  worry  if  I  went 
a  little  bit  fast  for  you,  because 
I'm  going  to  back  up.  But  that's  it, 
and  I  just  want  to  fill  in  a  little. 

Will  you  pardon  that  "gotta." 
G-o-double-t-a.  It  isn't  in  the  dic- 
tionary, but  I  like  it.  It  carries 
with  it  a  kind  of  compulsion,  if  you 
would  achieve  the  end  result. 

First,  you  gotta  know  your  stuff. 
The  man  who  said  that,  for  twenty 
years  had  been  the  leading  salesman 
in  our  organization,  and  he  said 
there  is  no  substitute  for  it.  You 
who  lead  in  the  field  of  social 
science  or  in  work  projects  or  in 
theological  lessons  or  in  visits  to 
the  home,  did  you  notice  the  com- 
prehensiveness of  the  suggestions 
of  Sister  Spafford  this  morning?  To 
be  equipped,  really  to  know  what 
to  do,  an  executive  must  know— a 
leader  must  be  familiar  with  a 
wealth  of  information. 

For  years  I  have  been  saying  the 
man  who  presumes  or  aspires  to  be 
a  leader  should  know  more,  or 
should  be  learning  more,  than  any- 
body in  the  group  to  be  led.  Now 
that  makes  provision  for  the  young 
worker.  He  may  not  know  so  much 
now,  but  he  can  be  learning  faster, 
he  can  be  working  harder.  I  am 
always  impressed  that  Jesus  spoke, 
".  .  .  as  one  having  authority  .  .  ." 
(Mt.  7:29).  Inspired  of  his  Fa- 
ther, he  knew  the  word,  he  knew 
the  truth. 

The  Prophet  Joseph  was  asked, 


"What  do  you  believe?"  and  he 
gave  in  answer  that  tremendous 
statement  couched  in  the  Articles 
of  Faith.  No  man  could  have  done 
that  who  was  not  prepared,  pre- 
pared under  the  inspiration  of  God 
Almighty.  He  was  the  Prophet's 
teacher. 

I  cannot  tell  you  where  you  will 
get  your  information;  did  we  have 
the  time  to  expand  it,  I  would  just 
weary  you.  The  plain  fact  is  that 
a  leader— can't  improve  on  the  lan- 
guage—you gotta  know  your  stuff. 
You  teach  a  lesson,  you  must  know 
it.  You've  gone  through  it,  you 
know  it  thoroughly  well.  You  can- 
not teach  well  when  you  prepare 
your  lesson  on  the  way  to  Relief 
Society  meeting.  The  best  teacher 
prepares  his  lessons  months  in  ad- 
vance and  matures  them  and  dreams 
about  them,  and  fills  them  in  and 
enriches  them. 

Suggestion  No.  1,  You  gotta  know 
your  stuff. 

I  was  thinking  of  the  second  one 
all  the  time  Sister  Romney  was 
speaking.  See  the  contrast,  from 
the  classic  loveliness  of  the  music 
of  Berkeley  Stake  to  the  native  cos- 
tumes and  the  bare  feet  of  Central 
America— and  we  are  called  to  min- 
ister in  both  fields.  "You  have  to 
understand  people."  And  be  able 
to  make  the  allowance  to  adjust. 
Look,  every  leader  must  have  fol- 
lowers, and  the  followers  are  peo- 
ple, and  people  are  born  into  the 
world  with  instincts  which  they  de- 
velop out  of  an  environment— and 
people  are  what  they  are.  (If  there 
were  more  men  here,  I'd  say  some 
of  us  are  odd  creatures.) 

People  are  a  challenge.     I  have 


LEADERSHIP 


79 


been  working  with  young  people  all 
my  life.  You  work  so  hard  to  try 
to  understand  youth,  and  you  just 
begin  to  feel  that  perhaps  you  do 
a  little  bit,  and  along  comes  a  new 
generation— new  slang,  new  dress, 
new  everything.  I  saluate  you,  if 
you  understand  your  group.  I  con- 
fess that  I  do  not.  And  the  more 
people  I  see  and  work  with,  the 
less  I  seem  to  know  about  them. 
But  it  is  a  fascinating  challenge  to 
try  to  understand  them.  Why  do 
some  people  get  bored,  and  why  are 
some  people  annoyed,  and  why  do 
some  people  never  seem  to  warm 
up  to  the  truth?  This  is  part  of 
your  challenge.  With  their  feelings, 
with  their  inertia,  with  their  aspira- 
tions, with  their  occasional  preju- 
dices, with  their  fixed  opinions 
sometimes.  How  do  you  under- 
stand them,  and  how  do  you  appeal 
to  them  to  move  them?  What  a 
study! 

A  leader  must  be  aware,  first  of 
all,  of  all  these  differences,  and 
then  he  must  have  the  genius  to 
reconcile  them  and  to  inspire  a  re- 
sponse. It  is  one  of  the  great  chal- 
lenges of  leadership! 

The  third  suggestion,  "You  gotta 
spread  a  contagion. 

We  have  an  odd  way  in  America, 
whenever  there  is  a  contagious 
disease,  we  hang  a  little  yellow  strip 
out  on  the  door  saying,  "You  better 
not  come  in,  you'll  come  down  with 
something/'  I  wish  I  had  the  geni- 
us to  put  a  little  badge  across  every 
leader's  forehead  which  would  in- 
vite in  these  terms,  "Come  on  in 
and  mingle  with  us,  and  you'll  come 
up  with  something.'7  We  haven't 
done  it,  I  wish  we  might.  I  would 
like  to  have  the  genius  to  do  that. 


"You  have  to  spread  a  contag- 
ion!' Look,  some  days  are  tough, 
some  days  you  are  tired,  some  days 
you  are  worn  out,  I  know  that.  I 
was  in  a  home  the  other  night 
where  there  was  a  little  family  of 
seven  children,  and  I  wondered  how 
the  mother  keeps  it  up.  The  ever- 
lasting who,  where,  why,  and  how— 
men  have  such  an  easy  task  as  com- 
pared with  women  who  bring  up 
and  train  and  nurture  little  chil- 
dren. I  have  always  said  it,  I  salute 
them. 

Now  I  know  you  get  tired,  and 
when  things  go  wrong,  I  suppose 
you  get  a  little  out  of  sorts,  but  the 
tough  days  will  never  make  a  leader 
out  of  you  if  the  discouragement 
gets  you  down.  "You  gotta  spread 
a  contagion." 

Leave  the  ills  and  the  worries  and 
the  unfortunate  things  back  in  the 
closet.  When  you  go  out  to  Relief 
Society,  take  the  cheer,  rise  above 
the  circumstance,  and  aspire  to  in- 
spire fine  workers.  This  is  scant 
treatment  of  a  homemade  recipe, 
but  it  is  there. 

What  do  they  come  up  with  from 
you?  I  can't  put  it  better  than  that. 
They  are  tired,  too,  and  they  are  a 
little  discouraged,  and  they  are  hav- 
ing some  difficulty,  and  sometimes 
their  husbands  are  unmindful  of 
them.  Sometimes  they  are  facing 
catastrophe;  sometime  they  are  try- 
ing to  climb  up  out  of  sin.  What 
do  you  do  for  them?  That's  the 
challenge  of  spreading  a  contagion— 
you  just  have  to  reach  out  with  the 
spirit  that  gives  them  the  buoyancy 
of  soul  that  will  lead  them  to  ac- 
complish their  aspirations. 

And  the  fourth  suggestion,  "You 
gotta  see  through  today  to  tomoi- 


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RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


row/'  The  leader  always  is  a  man 
of  vision.  Let  me  get  into  my  own 
group.  The  leader  is  a  woman  of 
vision.  She  is  a  long-range  worker. 
She  is  a  pioneer  of  thought.  She 
plans  ahead,  so  that  she  always 
knows  the  next  move.  She  looks 
the  year's  work  through.  That 
gives  her  time  to  arrange  the  de- 
tails for  the  program  ahead.  Special 
days,  special  occasions,  fascinating 
problems,  and  challenging  and  in- 
triguing questions.  By  being  pre- 
pared in  advance,  she  can  anticipate 
all  of  those.  More  than  that,  she 
can  meditate  along  the  way.  A  pre- 
liminary thinking  conjures  up  new 
ideas,  and  the  more  you  turn  them 
over,  the  more  they  breed  addition- 
al ideas.  The  trouble  with  eleventh- 
hour  preparation  is  there  is  no  time 
for  hatching  the  idea. 

This  is  crude,  particularly  in  this 
presence,  but  no  hen  ever  hatches 
an  egg  in  a  hurry.  She  sits— as  a 
matter  of  fact— I  like  it  a  little  bet- 
ter if  you  say  she  "sets,"  and  you 
gotta  "set"  long  enough  to  warm 
the  eggs  to  hatch  them.  I  want  to 
tell  you,  some  of  us  sit  on  ideas,  and 
we  are  so  cold  and  the  period  is  so 
brief,  they  can  never  be  "hatched." 
Well,  pardon  the  crudeness  of  that 
—I  came  off  the  farm,  you'll  soon 
understand. 

Will  you  let  me  borrow  another 
figure  from  the  farm?  "Once  you 
look  over  the  fence,  you  can  see 
the  field  out  ahead,  but  you  can 
never  see  the  field  if  you  are  all  the 
time  looking  behind  the  fence." 
You  gotta  get  up  where  you  can 
see,  "you  gotta  see  through  today 
to  tomorrow." 

"Well,  you  are  gracious  and  pa- 


tient.   I  want  to  give  you  the  fifth 
point. 

"You  gotta  have  help." 

Real  leaders  are  always  strong  in- 
dividuals, but  they  are  seldom  solo- 
ists. They  solicit  help,  and  they 
capitalize  on  the  strength  of  the 
men  they  lead.  Every  man  and 
every  woman  has  some  contribu- 
tion to  make.  That  is  the  glory  of 
being  children  of  God.  Nobody  is 
born  into  the  world,  so  far  as  I  am 
able  to  find,  wholly  devoid  of  ideas, 
and  the  wise  leader  capitalizes  on 
the  strength  of  his  group.  There  is 
a  little  bit  to  be  added  by  every 
woman  here  this  morning;  could  we 
clear  the  decks  here,  there  would 
come  a  suggestion  from  every  good 
woman  in  this  presence,  and  the 
sum  total  of  what  you  give  is  the 
strength  of  this  gathering. 

VfOW,  you  work  in  the  field  of  re- 
ligion. I  want  to  close  with  the 
thought  that  brings  you  the  real 
help.  I  am  just  back  from  a  stirring 
experience  up  in  the  Northwest, 
with  the  boys  who  are  up  there  on 
missions.  I've  listened  to  their  testi- 
monies, and  one  boy  stood  up  and 
said,  "I  was  frightened;  I  was  nearly 
afraid  to  death  when  I  first  came,  I 
seemed  such  a  kid,  but,  you  know, 
I  soon  learned  I  never  called  on  a 
home  alone."  I  like  that.  He  said, 
"Somebody  seemed  always  to  go 
along  with  me,  and  it  wasn't  just 
my  companion." 

Dinsmore  said  it  beautifully,  "If 
no  help  had  ever  come  from  God" 
(if  you  get  nothing  else  out  of  what 
I  say  today,  take  this  one  back,  will 
you?  I  would  have  read  for  weeks 
to  get  this  line),  "If  no  help  had 


LEADERSHIP 


81 


ever  come  from  God,  the  impulse 
to  pray  would  have  died  out  long 
ago." 

After  you  have  done  all  that  you 
can,  after  you  have  worked  to  the 
full  of  your  capacities,  after  you 
have  given  your  whole  concern  and 
your  whole  heart  to  this  labor,  you 
go  out  with  the  wonderful  assur- 
ance that  there  is  help  for  you. 

I  think  one  of  the  richest  prom- 
ises in  all  sacred  Scripture  is  Doc- 
trine and  Covenants,  section  112, 
verse  10— it  is  a  favorite  of  mine— 
"Be  thou  humble;  and  the  Lord  thy 
God  shall  lead  thee  by  the  hand, 
and  give  thee  answer  to  thy 
prayers."  And  that  promise  we  give 
to  you  fine  workers.  You  do  not 
work  alone.  You  need  help,  as  the 
boy  said,  "You've  gotta  have  help," 
and  it  is  yours  for  the  asking. 

And  so,  summing  it  up  in  a  word: 


you  gotta  know  your  stuff;  you  got- 
ta understand  people;  you  gotta 
spread  a  contagion;  you  gotta  see 
through  today  to  tomorrow;  and  you 
gotta  have  help. 

Do  you  want  to  translate  this 
homely  little  recipe  into  a  tangible 
idea?  I  bid  you  to  observe  the  First 
Presidency  of  this  Church:  I  think 
one  of  the  strongest  First  Presiden- 
cies in  125  years.  I  pay  them  that 
tribute.  This  honored  wife  today 
of  one  of  the  greatest  prophets  ever 
to  live  could  give  you  the  intimate 
witness  that  leadership  is  bestowed 
upon  that  Presidency,  because  they 
have  achieved  it,  and  it  can  be  be- 
stowed upon  you,  on  the  same 
terms. 

God  bless  you  and  sustain  you 
and  magnify  you,  I  pray,  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  Jesus  Christ. 
Amen. 


Snowscape 

Eva  WiJIes  Wangsgaard 

We  reached  the  snow-wrapped  hilltop  where  a  blast 

Of  wind  caught  up  a  plume  of  smoke  and  hurled 

It  fiercely  at  the  clouds.    Below,  a  vast 

Array  of  wintered  hills  made  up  the  world. 

The  drifts  were  deep  and  furry  on  our  hill 

Where  rippled  shadows,  blue  and  violet,  lay; 

But  mountain  peaks  were  calcite-sharp  and  chill, 

Majestic,  crystalline,  and  far  away. 

The  house  from  which  the  blue-gray  smoke  had  climbed 

Lay  with  its  sheds,  half-hidden  in  a  swale. 

They  seemed  just  smaller  hills  all  winter-rimed 

Till  someone  walked  there,  swinging  a  sunlit  pail, 

A  sign  of  homely  warmth,  a  fruitful  stall; 

And  peace,  no  longer  cold,  lay  over  all. 


Second  Lrnze  Story 

tStanual  IKeltef  Society  Short  Story  Contest 

Keep  Me  Forever 

Margaret  Hardy 


MARGARET  HARDY 

ELLY  sat  in  the  middle  of  her 
father's  potato  field,  her 
braids  nearly  brushing  the 
ground  as  she  rested  her  head  on 
her  knees.  There  was  no  shade 
anywhere,  so  she  sat  between  the 
rows  that  she  had  been  hoeing. 
Picking  up  her  apron,  she  wiped 
the  perspiration  from  her  face  and 
sat  absently  examining  the  dirty 
place  it  left.  The  clumsy,  hateful 
hoe  lay  on  the  ground  beside  her, 
waiting  to  be  used  again.  She  looked 
at  it,  then  at  her  father  to  see  if  he 
could  see  her  sitting  there.  He 
could,  for  he  called  to  her,  and  she 

Page  82 


stood  and  picked  the  hoe  up  again. 
Her  muscles  ached  from  all  her 
stooping,  and  she  stretched  her 
stocky  body  out  thin.  When  she 
turned  her  head  from  side  to  side, 
she  could  see  clean,  cold  snow  high 
on  the  Alps  bordering  their  valley, 
and  she  wished  she  had  a  handful 
to  rub  in  her  face. 

As  she  stood  wishing,  she  heard 
a  loud,  distressing  cry  coming  from 
the  house.  She  saw  her  father 
spring  up  and  stand  still  to  listen. 
The  sound  came  again,  closer  this 
time,  and  they  could  see  the  moth- 
er in  the  yard,  leaning  against  the 
fence  post,  by  the  gate.  It  was 
Papa's  name  she  was  calling,  but  in 
no  ordinary  way,  and  Papa  and  Elly 
dropped  their  hoes  and  ran  across 
the  field,  jumping  over  potato 
plants  as  they  ran. 

Papa  ran  faster  than  Elly,  with 
his  long  legs,  and  shoes  to  protect 
his  feet  from  the  sharp  stones;  so 
when  Elly  reached  the  gate,  Papa 
was  helping  Mama  into  the  house, 
and  Mama  was  bent  over,  and  was 
hardly  walking  at  all. 

Elly  didn't  know  why  she  had 
run,  and  now  that  she  was  there, 
she  didn't  know  what  to  do.  So 
she  went  to  the  watering  trough  and 
splashed  water  in  her  face  until  it 
trickled  down  her  braids  and  made 
her  blouse  cool  and  wet.  She  heard 
Mama  cry  out  again  from  the  house, 


KEEP  ME  FOREVER 


83 


but  this  time  she  wasn't  calling 
anyone,  but  making  noises  that  a 
ten-year-old  didn't  understand.  She 
went  to  the  goat  pen  and  let  the 
goats  chew  on  the  stick  she  had  in 
her  hand.  Mama  cried  out  again 
and  again,  and  Elly  dropped  her 
stick  and  clutched  her  fists  to  her 
mouth  and  cried,  too.  She  wanted 
to  run  in  the  house  and  see  what  all 
this  was,  but  she  didn't  dare,  for  if 
Papa  wanted  her,  he'd  call. 

And  he  did  call  then,  a  roaring, 
demanding  call,  and  Elly  jumped 
and  ran  like  a  deer  in  the  forest. 

"Elly!"  he  shouted.  "To  the  vil- 
lage! Run!  Fetch  the  doctor  for 
Mama.    Run,  Elly.    Hurry!" 

Elly  stood  frozen  to  the  spot,  stiff 
with  terror.  Something  was  ter- 
ribly wrong  with  Mama,  and  she 
wanted  to  see,  but  Papa  barred  the 
way. 

"Elly,"  he  shouted,  and  took  hold 
of  her  shoulders  and  spun  her 
around  and  started  her  down  the 
path.  "Doctor  Hoggenheimer!  Get 
him!"  he  roared  after  her. 

OAST  the  bake  oven  and  through 
the  ox  corral  she  ran,  and  down 
the  rutted  road.  She  wanted  to  cry, 
but  she  had  no  breath.  Her  bare 
feet  scraped  the  stones  in  the  road 
and  a  knife  stuck  in  her  side,  but 
she  thought  of  Mama,  and  kept 
running. 

A  peasant  woman  drove  an  ox 
cart  piled  high  with  hay,  and  Elly 
climbed  on  the  back  to  ride.  But 
it  bumped  and  jostled  along  so 
slowly  that  she  jumped  off  and  ran 
on  down  the  road  again. 

In  the  village,  she  found  the 
street  and  the  house  where  the  doc- 
tor lived.    With  both  her  fists  she 


pounded  on  the  door  until  it  opened, 
and  an  angry  looking  servant 
woman  with  both  hands  on  her 
hips  stood  looking  down  on  her. 
Elly  shook  with  fear,  and  choked  on 
the  words  she  tried  to  say.  Tears 
sprang  into  her  eyes,  and  it  was  sev- 
eral minutes  before  she  could  say 
anything  at  all.  Then  she  tried  to 
tell  the  woman  about  Mama,  but 
before  she  was  finished  telling  it, 
the  woman  had  told  her  the  doctor 
was  not  there,  and  had  closed  the 
door. 

Elly  sat  down  on  the  stoop  to 
get  her  breath  and  cry,  and  didn't 
know  what  to  do,  because  there  was 
no  one  there  to  tell  her.  The  doc- 
tor would  come  when  he  came 
home,  the  servant  had  said,  but 
when  would  that  be?  Papa  said  to 
hurry,  she  thought,  but  what  good 
is  there  without  the  doctor? 

It  was  coming  into  evening,  and 
Elly  left  the  stoop,  and  wandered 
through  the  village,  watching  the 
shopkeepers  lock  their  doors.  Farm- 
ers' carts,  loaded  with  fresh  vege- 
tables for  sale  in  the  morning 
crowded  the  street.  The  bell  on 
the  textile  mill  tolled,  and  women 
and  girls  poured  out  of  its  doors. 
Like  sheep  they  swarmed,  and  Elly 
pressed  herself  up  against  the  leath- 
er shop  wall  to  let  them  pass.  A  few 
of  the  girls  stopped  and  gathered 
around  two  young  men,  one  of 
whom  stood  preaching.  Their  talk 
was  muddled,  and  Elly  couldn't  un- 
derstand what  they  said,  so  she 
walked  on. 

There  was  a  goose  boy  in  the 
street,  piping  his  goose  song,  and 
she  thought  of  Peter  in  the  hills 
with  his  geese,  and  she  decided  to 
walk  home  with  him. 


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RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


She  left  the  village  and  walked 
across  the  field  and  followed  a  path 
that  ran  alongside  an  old  canal.  The 
earth  felt  damp  and  smooth  under 
her  bare  feet.  She  stooped  and 
picked  a  bunch  of  daisies,  and  then 
there  were  so  many,  she  walked  in 
them,  and  watched  them  bend 
down  under  her  feet  and  spring  up 
again. 

]V^)T  far  from  the  farm  was  the 
hill  where  Peter  was,  and  Elly 
climbed  to  the  top  of  it  and  sat  to 
rest.  Below  her  she  could  see  her 
house,  nearly  hidden  by  trees,  peace- 
ful and  quiet.  Seeing  it,  she  remem- 
bered her  errand,  and  ran  down 
the  goose  trail  and  caught  up  to 
Peter.  He  turned  at  her  call  and 
waited. 

"Elly  Bohmer!  Where  did  you 
come  from?" 

"From  an  errand  to  the  village, 
silly  boy,"  she  panted,  and  she  ran 
around  the  goose  herd,  shooing  the 
hissing  geese  back  together  again. 

"For  your  mother,  no  doubt,  to 
buy  some  trifle."  Peter  swung  his 
stick  around  importantly. 

"It  was  for  my  father  I  went. 
Mama  was  in  great  pain,  and  I  ran 
to  the  village  to  fetch  the  doctor. 
He  must  surely  have  come,  for  I 
can't  hear  her  now." 

They  were  nearly  to  the  gate,  and 
suddenly  Elly  couldn't  bear  to  wait 
longer  to  see  Mama.  Up  the  road 
she  raced,  leaving  Peter  with  his 
geese  behind.  Up  the  path  and 
through  the  door  of  the  cottage  she 
burst.  Inside,  she  stopped  short.  It 
was  dark  in  the  house  after  the 
bright  outside,  and  no  one  had  lit 
a  candle.  As  her  eyes  grew  used  to 
the     darkness,      Elly     saw     Papa 


sprawled  at  the  table  with  his  head 
in  his  hands.  Mama  wasn't  bustling 
about  cooking  the  supper,  so  she 
must  be  outside  in  the  yard.  She 
turned  to  go  back  out  the  door, 
when  she  saw  a  hump  under  the 
quilt  on  Mama's  bed.  It  looked 
like  Mama,  but  Elly  couldn't  be 
sure,  because  the  quilt  was  pulled 
up  over  her  head.  She  went  to 
pull  it  down  to  look,  but  Papa 
looked  up. 

"No,  little  one,  don't  touch  it. 
Your  Mother  is  gone." 

Gone?  But  Mama  must  be  here. 
Where  could  she  be  gone  to?  Elly 
asked  herself.  She  turned  question- 
ing eyes  to  her  father,  but  his  head 
lay  on  the  table  again.  Bewildered, 
her  eyes  rested  on  the  old  cradle, 
waiting  there  for  the  new  baby  that 
was.  soon  to  come.  It  stood  near 
Mama's  bed,  and  Elly  had  only  to 
look  from  where  she  stood  to  see 
inside  it.  With  a  cry  she  reached 
her  hands  into  the  cradle,  but  her 
father's  voice  stopped  her  again. 

"No,  Elly,  little  one.  The  baby, 
it  is  gone,  too." 

Elly  didn't  understand.  The  baby 
was  there,  but  it  didn't  move,  so  it 
was  gone,  and  Mama,  there  under 
the  quilt— and  she  turned  and  fled 
from  the  house  to  find  Peter. 

Peter  was  fourteen,  and  knew 
everything.  He  would  know  about 
this,  too.  She  caught  up  to  him, 
running  through  the  goose  herd, 
scattering  them  every  way.  Catching 
his  arm,  she  pulled  him  to  the  side 
of  the  road  and  down  on  the  grass 
of  the  ditch  bank.  Peter  thought 
Elly  played  a  game,  and  started  to 
twirl  her  braids  around,  overjoyed 
at  the  attention. 

But  Elly  was  sobbing  and  talking, 


KEEP  ME  FOREVER 


85 


and  through  it  all,  Peter  heard  of 
her  grief,  and  understood,  and 
thinking  himself  to  be  a  man,  he 
cried  out,  "I'll  take  care  of  you, 
Elly.  You'll  be  mine  from  now  on, 
and  always.  One  day  a  piece  of  my 
father's  farm  will  be  mine,  and  then 
I'll  marry  you." 

So  Elly  stopped  her  weeping,  and 
clung  to  Peter,  and  loved  him  as 

well  as  a  ten-year-old  could. 

*     *     *     * 

P*LLY  stayed  on  at  the  farm  with 
her  father  and  kept  house,  and 
learned  to  do  all  the  things  Mama 
had  done.  Sometimes  she  felt  like 
a  woman,  and  tried  very  hard  to 
please  Papa,  and  make  him  happy. 
But  there  were  times  when  her  child 
heart  took  over,  and  she  romped  in 
the  grass,  and  played  with  the  goats 
as  she  had  done  before.  And  there 
were  excursions  into  the  hills  when 
she  took  a  long  stick  in  her  hand 
and  waved  it  over  the  geese  while 
Peter  piped  his  goose  song.  But 
these  days  were  not  as  they  had 
been,  for  she  was  getting  older,  and 
didn't  feel  the  same  with  Peter 
alone. 

When  she  was  thirteen,  she  took 
work  in  the  textile  mills,  as  did  the 
other  girls  her  age.  Each  morning 
she  walked  down  to  the  village  by 
the  road  that  she  had  run  over  so 
frantically  those  years  before.  And 
each  morning  as  she  walked,  she 
thought  of  Peter,  who  would  be 
waiting  for  her  at  the  door.  And 
of  Gabrielle,  who  stood  next  to  her 
at  the  loom,  who  thought  Peter  to 
be  so  very  handsome,  and  told 
Elly  about  it  every  day.  Elly  had 
never  looked  at  Peter  to  think  him 
handsome,  or  anything  but  just 
Peter,  but  Gabrielle  made  her  see 


him  through  new  eyes,  and  so  she 
thought  of  him  often. 

Some  days  when  they  left  the  fac- 
tory together,  they  saw  two  young 
men  standing  in  the  square,  one 
always  preaching.  Peter  liked  to 
listen  to  them,  for  he  was  a  scholar, 
and  understood  much  of  what  they 
said.  Gabrielle  often  stood  with 
them,  and  sometimes  she  slipped 
her  arm  through  Peter's  in  the  way 
that  city  girls  did,  holding  him  close 
to  her.  She  pretended  to  under- 
stand all  that  the  two  young  men 
said.  Then  as  they  walked  through 
the  village,  Gabrielle  would  jostle 
Peter,  and  tease  him,  tossing  her 
head  so  that  her  hair  danced  on  her 
shoulders. 

Elly  had  let  her  braids  down 
when  she  went  to  work  at  the  mill, 
and  to  her  dismay,  her  hair  hung 
straight  and  feathery,  like  corn  silk 
tassels.  It  hung  down  her  back, 
nearly  to  her  waist,  and  she  held  it 
back  from  her  face  with  a  ribbon. 
She  felt  plain  beside  Gabrielle  as 
she  danced  and  laughed  beside 
them,  so  she  looked  down  at  her 
feet  as  she  walked,  and  hardly  spoke 
at  all  until  Gabrielle  turned  off  on 
her  own  road. 

One  day  as  they  stood  side  by 
side  at  their  loom,  Gabrielle  and 
Elly,  Gabrielle  put  her  hand  into 
her  pocket  and  took  out  a  piece  of 
paper  and  handed  it  to  Elly. 

"I  have  something  for  you,  Elly," 
she  whispered.  "It's  from  Peter. 
He  told  me  to  give  it  to  you." 

"Something  for  me,  from  Peter?" 
and  Elly  took  it  and  thrust  it  into 
her  apron  pocket,  until  such  a  time 
as  she  could  read  it. 

At  noontime  she  ran  to  find  a 
corner  where  she  could  be  alone. 


86 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


Her  hand  held  the  note  tightly  in 
her  pocket,  and  she  trembled  inside 
with  excitement.  Sitting  on  the 
floor  with  her  back  against  the  wall, 
she  opened  the  folded  paper  and 
read: 

To  Elly, 

You  are  my  friend,  and  I  will  think 
of  you  always.  But  my  heart  belongs  to 
another. 

Peter 

Elly  sat  dumfounded.  She  read 
it  again,  and  then  again,  but  each 
time  it  was  the  same,  and  she 
rumpled  it  tightly  in  her  fist.  Then, 
knowing  she  was  too  old,  she  sat 
and  cried  as  she  had  cried  on  the 
doctor's  stoop  when  the  door  had 
been  closed  to  her,  for  a  door  had 
been  closed  to  her  again.  She  went 
back  to  her  loom,  but  she  couldn't 
look  at  Gabrielle  standing  by  her, 
for  surely  Peter's  heart  must  belong 
to  her. 

YK7HEN  the  evening  bell  tolled, 
Elly  slipped  out  the  door,  and 
there  stood  Peter  in  his  usual  place. 
He  stepped  toward  her  to  greet  her, 
and  Elly,  amazed,  stopped  still  and 
looked  full  at  him.  Then  she  picked 
her  skirts  up  in  her  hands  and  fled 
through  the  village  street.  The 
astonished  Peter  dropped  his  mouth 
open,  and  stood  staring,  glued  to 
the  spot,  and  when  he  ran,  she  was 
already  far  ahead. 

"Elly!"  he  shouted.  "Elly!  Wait 
for  me.  Where  are  you  going,  El- 
ly?" But  Elly  didn't  turn  her  head, 
or  stop  her  running. 

Peter  stopped  near  the  preaching 
men,  wondering  what  to  do,  and 
as  he  turned,  Gabrielle  was  at  his 
side. 


"Gabrielle!  What  is  it  with  El- 
ly? I  waited  at  the  door  as  always, 
but  when  she  came,  she  ran  from 
me.    Has  she  spoken  to  you?" 

Gabrielle  didn't  answer,  but  she 
slid  her  arm  through  Peter's  as  was 
her  way,  and  led  him  along,  talking 
to  him  of  the  carnival  that  was  to 
come. 

When  Elly  saw  Peter  after  that, 
she  hurried  the  other  way,  and  soon 
Peter  did  the  same.  Sometimes  she 
saw  him  strolling  with  Gabrielle 
dancing  along  beside  him,  holding 
on  to  his  arm.  But  mostly  she  saw 
him  as  she  left  the  factory,  listening 
to  the  missionaries.  She  wondered 
what  they  had  to  tell,  but  she  didn't 
stop  now,  because  of  Peter. 

Gabrielle  had  never  once  spoken 
of  Peter  to  Elly  since  the  day  of  the 
note.  But  one  day  Gabrielle  was 
disturbed,  and  she  couldn't  hide  it. 
Elly  didn't  ask,  but  when  the  girls 
ate  their  noon  lunch,  Gabrielle 
talked  to  Elly,  and  Elly  listened. 
She  looked  very  dark. 

"Peter  goes  to  America  soon,"  she 
pouted.    "He  goes  alone." 

Elly  ate  on  in  her  usual  way,  but 
she  trembled  inside.  Peter  to 
America!  It  was  unbelievable.  And 
Gabrielle  hadn't  won  his  heart. 
This  made  her  smile  a  little.  But 
Gabrielle  had  more  to  say. 

"It's  those  preaching  men,"  she 
said  bitterly.  "They  told  him  to 
go,  and  he  does  everything  they 
say. 

Elly  stopped  eating  and  drew  her- 
self up  straight  in  front  of  Gabrielle. 

"Peter  believes  in  them,"  she 
said.  "It's  their  gospel  that  he 
loves.  And  if  he  says  it's  so,  it's  so." 
And  she  looked  defiantly  at  Gab- 
rielle.    But  defending  him  brought 


KEEP  ME  FOREVER 


87 


tears,  for  she  had  lost  him  surely, 

for  he  was  going  away. 
#     #     ♦     # 

WAS  it  two  years?  Three?  Elly 
could  never  remember  how 
long  it  had  been  that  Peter  was 
away.  The  road  from  the  village  to 
the  farm  had  grown  much,  much 
longer,  and  each  week  was  a  month. 
There  were  new  missionaries  preach- 
ing in  the  square,  and  Elly  stopped 
often  to  listen.  Gabrielle  had  left 
the  loom  next  to  Elly's,  for  she  had 
soon  found  a  new  love,  and  she  had 
told  Elly  every  day  how  handsome 
he  was,  until  she  had  married  him 
and  gone  away.  The  note  had  long 
since  been  forgotten  by  Gabrielle, 
but  not  by  Elly.  The  words  of  it 
were  engraved  on  her  heart,  and 
she  could  never  forget  it,  for  her 
heart  had  told  her  how  it  was. 

One  day  when  Elly  was  eighteen 
years  old,  she  stood  listening  to  the 
missionaries  from  America.  The 
young  man  who  was  talking  fin- 
ished, and  stepped  down  from  the 
box  he  was  standing  on,  and  an- 
other took  his  place.  He  stood  and 
looked  all  around  him,  at  the  leather 
shop,  and  the  mill,  and  the  farmers 
with  their  carts,  and  at  the  people 
with  their  faces  turned  up  to  him, 
waiting.    And  he  couldn't  talk. 


Then,  instead  of  this  clean-shav- 
en young  man  in  a  dark  suit,  so 
full  of  emotion,  with  his  hands  in 
his  pockets,  Elly  saw  a  boy  in  short 
leather  trousers  and  a  peaked  little 
hat  with  a  feather  stuck  in  it.  In 
one  hand  he  carried  a  goose  stick, 
and  in  the  other  a  flute.  And  Elly 
dreamily  reached  her  hand  up  to 
where  her  braids  had  been.  But 
the  gray  eyes  of  the  young  man 
were  the  same  in  his  sun-tanned 
face,  and  the  teeth,  when  he  smiled 
were  Peter's.  Elly  wanted  to  snatch 
his  hand  and  run  with  him  through 
the  daisy  field  and  up  to  the  goose 
pasture,  but  that  would  have  to 
wait  until  a  later  day,  for  Peter  was 
a  missionary. 

A  happy  shiver  ran  through  her 
body  as  she  stood  watching  him, 
and  she  listened  to  his  message,  for 
he  was  talking  now.  He  finished, 
and  the  people  started  to  drift  away, 
but  Elly  stood  still  and  waited. 
When  he  came,  she  caught  his  arm 
and  pulled  him  away  from  the  peo- 
ple and  stood  with  him  by  the 
leather  shop  wall.  And  she  wept, 
and  Peter  comforted  her  as  he  had 
done  when  she  was  a  child.  For 
yesterday  was  their  childhood,  with 
all  that  it  held,  but  tomorrow  would 
be  soon  —  and  forever. 


Margaret  Hardy,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  appears  for  the  first  time  as  an 
award  winner  in  the  Relief  Society  Short  Story  Contest,  with  her  entry  "Keep 
Me  Forever." 

"I  am  overjoyed  by  the  news  of  my  story  being  awarded  second  prize," 
Mrs.  Hardy  writes,  "as  it  will  be  my  first  published  story,  my  other  publica- 
tion, an  article  called  "A  Good  Day,"  having  appeared  in  The  Relief  Society 
Magazine.  I  am  not  affiliated  with  any  writing  groups.  I  have  studied  voice 
and  writing  at  the  University  of  Utah  and  have  done  singing  locally.  I  am 
the  Primary  chorister;  I  sing  with  the  Singing  Mothers,  teach  a  Sunday  School 
class,  and  am  a  visiting  teacher  in  the  Relief  Society  of  the  Forest  Dale  Ward. 
I  have  worked  in  most  of  the  auxiliaries  of  the  Church.  Mine  is  a  family  of 
three  children,  an  assortment  of  pets,  my  husband,  and  myself.  I  enjoy  skiing, 
tennis,  and  painting,  and  I  work  at  learning  to  play  the  piano,  with  no  success 
as  yet." 


cJhe  fyCustraltari    II it 


tsston 


Preston  Nibhy 

TN  the  summer  of  1840,  ten  years  after  the  Church  was  organized,  a  young 
convert  in  Hanley,  Staffordshire,  England,  named  William  Barrett, 
seventeen  years  of  age,  who  was  about  to  make  a  voyage  to  Australia,  was 
ordained  an  elder  by  George  A.  Smith,  of  the  Council  of  Twelve,  and 
appointed  to  labor  as  a  missionary  in  that  country.  He  arrived  in  Australia 
and  delivered  his  message,  but  it  is  not  known  that  he  made  any  converts. 

Two  years  later,  Andrew  Anderson,  one  of  the  first  converts  baptized 
in  Scotland,  by  Elder  Orson  Pratt,  in  1840,  moved  to  Australia  with  his 
family  and  located  at  Sydney,  New  South  Wales.  In  1845  he  reported  to 
the  Church  Authorities  in  Nauvoo  that  he  had  baptized  eleven  people  and 
organized  a  branch  of  the  Church. 

The  real  beginning  toward  the  establishment  of  a  mission  in  Australia 
was  made  in  1851,  when  Elder  John  Murdock  of  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  was 
appointed  by  the  First  Presidency  to  open  a  mission  in  that  land.    He  was 


Photograph  submitted  by  Leah  Liljenquist 

THE  MURRAY  RIVER   FROM  THE   NEW  SOUTH  WALES   SIDE 

AT  COROWA,  AUSTRALIA 

Page  88 


THE  AUSTRALIAN  MISSION 


89 


Photograph  submitted  by  Leah  Liljenquist 

THE  BURRAGORANG  VALLEY,  NEW  SOUTH  WALES,  AUSTRALIA 

accompanied  on  his  journey  by  Elder  Charles  W.  Wandell,  and  the  two 
brethren  arrived  in  Sydney  on  October  30th.  Through  their  diligence 
they  soon  established  a  thriving  branch  of  the  Church,  and  the  work  of 
proselyting  has  not  ceased  since  that  time. 

New  Zealand  became  a  part  of  the  Australian  Mission  in  1854,  and 
the  two  countries  were  known  as  the  Australasian  Mission.  From  1880  to 
1897  the  headquarters  of  the  mission  was  at  Aukland,  but  in  October  1897, 
two  separate  missions  were  formed. 

In  1930  the  membership  of  the  Australian  Mission  was  1,313;  in  1954 
the  membership  had  increased  to  3,053. 

President  David  O.  McKay  made  an  extensive  tour  of  the  Australian 
Mission  in  January  1955.  During  July  1955,  the  Australian  Mission  was 
divided  into  the  Australian  and  South  Australian  Missions.  This  was  done 
by  Elder  Marion  G.  Romney  of  the  Council  of  the  Twelve,  who  had 
journeyed  to  Australia  for  that  purpose,  acting  under  the  direction  of  the 
First  Presidency.  Before  the  division  of  the  mission,  there  were  twenty- 
five  Relief  Society  organizations.  Elder  Zelph  Young  Erekson  is  president 
of  the  Australian  Mission,  and  Sister  Ada  Irene  Soane  Erekson  presides 
over  the  mission  Relief  Society. 


I 


There  Is  Still  Time 

Chapter  i 
Margery  S.  Stewart 

T  was  the  dream  that  awakened  Elizabeth  had  seen  its  possibilities 

her.    Elizabeth  opened  her  eyes  at  once  and  the  result  was  almost  as 

quickly.      She    felt    suffocated  charming  as  its  occupant, 

from  the  quick  beating  of  her  heart.  Donna    opened    her    eyes    when 

She  sighed  with  relief  at  sight  of  Elizabeth  bent  above  her  bed.    She 

familiar  pale  green  draperies,  white  smiled  sleepily  in  welcome,  her  dark 

bars    of    Venetian    blinds    through  eyes   luminous,   her  dimples  show- 

which  night  flowed  darkly.  ing.     "Can   I   really   go  to   school 

She  was  trembling.     It  was  only  when  it's  September?" 

a  dream,  she  told  herself,  but  the  "Really,  my  darling." 

fear   persisted    —    the   building-on-  'Til  be  awful  big  then,  won't  I?" 

quicksand  feeling  that  was  with  her  "So— o  big." 

so  much  of  the  time.    Brent,  beside  Donna   smiled  and  turned   over 

her,  turned  over,  mumbled  in  his  on  her  side,  her  dark  curls  slipping 

sleep.  across  her  cheek.    Elizabeth  pulled 

Elizabeth  crept  out  of  bed,  put  the  sheet  higher  over  the  small,  out- 
on  robe  and  slippers.  She  slipped  flung  arm.  Love  made  a  soft  sing- 
down  the  hall  to  the  twins'  room,  ing  inside  her. 
They  were  fiercely  asleep,  Johnny  I  should  go  back  to  bed,  she 
with  the  red  Indian  paint  still  show-  thought,  the  dream  was  just  one  of 
ing  on  his  forehead,  Jennie  with  her  those  frightening  ones.  She  stamped 
new  set  of  Gene  Autry  guns  on  the  her  feet  lightly.  You  see,  she  scold- 
blanket  over  her  stomach.  ed  herself,  your  feet  are  strong  and 

Elizabeth  went  quietly  to  her  old-  well,  nothing  wrong  with  them,  nor 
est  daughter's  room.  The  door  was  with  your  legs,  nor  you,  for  that 
firmly  closed.  She  lifted  her  hand  matter.  But  still  the  soft  winds  of 
to  knock,  but  thought  better  of  it.  apprehension  brushed  along  her 
Elaine  was  impassioned  these  days  neck.  She  felt  her  way  down  the 
about  her  right  of  privacy,  "...  af-  stairs,  crossed  the  enormous  living 
ter  all  when  one  is  sixteen!"  She  room  and  the  almost  as  large  din- 
spoke  it  in  caps  all  the  time,  as  ing  room  into  the  kitchen.  Here 
though  the  year  sixteen  was  a  gate-  she  felt  free  to  turn  on  the  lights, 
way  into  a  land  no  one  else  had  bang  the  refrigerator  door,  rattle 
ever  entered  and  out  of  which  she  pots  and  pans.  She  felt  a  slight 
would  never  emerge.  Pang  in  the  small  tasks.     Once  she 

But  there  was  one  room  which  had  been  queen  of  the  kitchen,  but 
held  no  fears,  and,  as  yet,  no  an-  now  Matilda,  large  and  dark  and 
noyances  —  Donna's  room.  It  had  bustling,  had  full  command.  The 
originally  been  intended  for  a  dress-  twins  were  slavish  in  their  adorn- 
ing room  and  was  rather  small,  but  tion.     It  was,  "Let's  ask  Tildy  to 

Page  90 


THERE  IS  STILL  TIME 


91 


make  us  some  lemon  cookies  .  .  .  . 
Maybe  Tildy  will  make  us  some  taf- 
fy this  afternoon." 

Elizabeth  lit  the  fire  under  the 
milk. 

"IV/f  AKE  some  for  me,  too." 

She  whirled,  then  relaxed  at 
sight  of  Brent,  short,  stocky,  his 
thick  light  curly  hair  rumpled,  the 
overhead  light  twinkling  on  his 
glasses.  He  draped  himself  on  the 
stool. 

"Wake  the  whole  house  when 
you  go  tiptoeing  around." 

"I  do  not." 

"Certainly  do.  Johnny  had  a 
coughing  spasm  right  after  you 
left  ....  Jennie  started  yelling 
something  about  the  Khyber  Pass, 
and  Elaine  came  out  to  demand, 
and  haughtily,  that  the  family  leave 
her  in  peace." 

Elizabeth  laughed.  "But  I  didn't 
even  go  near  Elaine.  I  only  stood 
outside  her  door." 

"She  said  she  could  hear  you 
breathing  in  the  hall." 

"She  didn't!" 

"You  know  she  did.  You  know 
very  well  that  even  the  way  we  eat 
soup  these  days  is  more  than  she 
can  bear." 

Elizabeth  tightened  the  cord  of 
her  robe.  "Too  true."  She  bright- 
ened, "But  Donna  was  glad  to  see 
me." 

Brent  smiled  wryly,  "So  glad  that 
she  is  now  in  our  bed  ...  in  the 
exact  center  .  .  .  and  we  are  home- 
less for  the  night." 

"Fm  sorry,"  Elizabeth  said.  She 
got  down  another  cup  and  saucer. 
"Toast?" 

"No  thanks,  I  think  I'll  have 
some  of  Matilda's  banana  bread. 
Any  left?" 


"No.     Johnny." 

"Confound  it!  I  told  him  to 
leave  at  least  a  crust." 

"He  forgot.  I'll  tell  her  to  make 
some  more  tomorrow." 

"But  I  wanted  it  tonight."  His 
good  humor  was  melting  away.  The 
sharp  impatience  that  possessed  him 
so  much  of  the  time,  lately,  edging 
back. 

She  said  quickly,  "There's  cake. 
Here,  let  me  get  it  for  you." 

He  scowled.  "Kids  never  give 
you  a  thought,  just  themselves  .  .  . 
all  the  time  .  .  .  selfish  .  .  .  thought- 
less. Look  at  all  I  give  them.  New 
bikes  for  the  twins  just  yesterday. 
They  hardly  said  thanks." 

"Brent!  they  were  thrilled  to 
death.  It's  just  that  they're  used  to 
getting  things." 

"Bert  Neibar's  boys  really  stand 
around  for  him  .  .  .  follow  him 
around  like  a  couple  of  puppies." 

She  bit  her  tongue.  She  would 
not  say  again,  "But  Bert  Neibar 
gives  the  boys  more  than  things  .  .  . 
he  gives  them  himself  .  .  .  games, 
hiking,  Church  on  Sundays  .  .  .  the 
three  of  them."  She  took  a  deep 
breath.  "What  about  the  lot  of  us 
going  on  a  picnic,  come  Saturday, 
down  to  the  beach?" 

"Corny." 

"Take  the  boat  out?" 

"Rather  not." 

"Go  down  to  San  Diego  to  the 
zoo?" 

"I've  got  enough  monkeys  in  my 
own  house."  His  smile  vanished. 
"I  think  they're  planning  a  new 
tract  over  in  the  valley.  I'm  going 
to  go  look  at  it.  I  want  to  make  a 
good  bid.  If  I  get  to  build  those 
houses  you  and  the  kids  can  wear 
ermine  this  winter." 


92 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


She  put  the  cup  of  milk  before 
him.  "I  don't  want  to  wear  er- 
mine." 

"Mink,  then/' 

"Nor  mink/' 

"A'right  a'ready!  Four  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  and  you  decide  to  be 
unreasonable.  What's  the  matter 
with  you  lately  ...  no  gratitude? 
Nothing  in  this  house  but  argu- 
ments and  fights  .  .  .  the  kids  fight 
...  we  fight  .  .  .  everybody  growls 
all  the  time." 

She  spoke  quickly,  before  her 
courage  could  ooze  away,  "When 
are  we  going  to  start  rearing  them 
together?  They  need  you,  Brent. 
When  are  we  going  to  start  doing 
for  them  all  the  things  we've  meant 
to  do,  Church,  family  days  .  .  .?" 

"Now,  Eliza,  you  know  you've 
been  just  as  busy  as  I  have,  trying 
to  get  us  where  we  are  today.  Be- 
sides, I  just  can't  start  any  projects 
now.  I've  got  enough  on  my 
hands."  He  drank  his  milk  swiftly, 
tension  beginning  to  show  in  the 
working  muscles  of  his  jaw.  "All  I 
ever  get  around  here  is  criticism." 

CHE  said  swiftly,  throwing  him 
the  new  thought  as  a  caged  man 
might  throw  a  bone  to  a  pacing 
lion.  "I  had  the  strangest  dream. 
That's  what  woke  me  up  .  .  .  the 
strangest  dream." 

He  looked  at  her  with  lackluster 
eyes.  "Everybody  gets  weird 
dreams." 

She  sat  on  the  other  stool.  "This 
will  make  you  laugh.  I  dreamed  we 
were  having  a  party  .  .  .  oh,  a  really 
gala  affair,  like  the  one  the  Jafferey's 
had  last  week." 

"That  was  something!"  He 
stopped  the  cup  at  his  lips.    "But- 


lers all  over  the  place.    I'll  bet  that 
cost  old  man  Jafferey  .  .  .  ." 

"It  was  like  that,  only  more  beau- 
tiful. The  grounds  were  so  green 
and  velvety  and  there  were  pieces 
of  statuary  here  and  there.  I  was 
waiting  to  receive  my  guests  .  .  . 
and  Brent  .  .  .  ."  She  put  her  cup 
down.  "I  looked  down  at  myself 
and  I  was  leaning  on  a  pair  of 
crutches." 

"Crutches!" 

"Yes,  but  they  weren't  ordinary. 
They  were  gold  and  silver  crutch- 
es ..  .  really  beautiful." 

He  reached  for  more  cake.  "It 
was  the  junk  Lois  served  us  tonight. 
Honestly,  how  that  woman  gets  by 
serving  the  stuff  she  does  .  .  .  ." 

"Lois'  buffet  was  delicious,  Brent. 
Anyway,  I  hardly  touched  it.  But 
Brent,  listen,  this  is  the  strangest 
part  of  my  dream.  When  the  guests 
came,  they  walked  on  crutches,  too, 
all  of  them." 

"What  a  dream!" 

"Karen  Jones,  you  know  how 
beautiful  she  is?" 

Brent  nodded  appreciatively. 

"She  was  wearing  crutches,  too. 
Hers  were  ivory  with  amethysts  and 
rubies  .  .  .  and  Mr.  Jafferey.  Oh, 
you  should  have  seen  his!" 

Brent  laughed.  "His  were  pure 
uranium,  I'll  bet." 

"Some  kind  of  silver  metal." 

Brent  stood  up  and  stretched. 
"Nice  dream.  If  it  were  only  true, 
we  could  have  our  guests  park  their 
crutches  and  forget  to  take  them." 

"No."  Elizabeth  moved  toward 
him,  put  her  arms  around  him. 
"It  wasn't  like  that  at  all.  I  was 
leaning  on  my  crutches  and,  sud- 
denly, they  crumbled  and  fell.  I 
couldn't  stand  by  myself  ...  I  had 


THERE  IS  STILL  TIME 


93 


been  leaning  such  a  long  time 

To  her   dismay,   tears   blurred  her 

voice. 

Brent  shouted  with  laughter. 
"Page  Freud,  darling.  You Ve  prob- 
ably been  harboring  some  sup- 
pressed fixation  and  it  popped  out 
in  a  dream." 

She  wanted  to  pull  understanding 
from  him.  "Brent,  it  was  so  awful, 
the  feeling  when  the  crutches 
crumbled.  I  was  so  helpless.  I  felt 
it  was  my  fault." 

Brent  shook  her  lightly.  "Darling 
child,  you  just  keep  right  on  lean- 
ing on  our  bank  roll.  It'll  never  let 
you  down.  Fm  going  to  get  the 
bid  for  that  new  tract,  and  you  can 
fly  to  Europe  and  buy  diamonds 
that'll  put  the  eyes  out  of  Karen 
Jones." 

"But  I  don't  want  diamonds." 

His  face  darkened  with  anger.  He 
dropped  his  hands.  "You  never 
want  anything.  If  it  weren't  for  me 
you'd  still  be  sitting  in  Beaver, 
Utah,  waiting  for  Saturday  night 
and  the  big  dance  at  the  ward 
house." 

"Those  were  fun  days,  and  I  wish 
they  were  back  again.  Oh,  Brent,  it 
isn't  that  I  don't  appreciate  every- 
thing you've  given  me  and  the  chil- 
dren. But  our  life  isn't  right. 
There's  something  missing  .  .  . 
something  lacking." 

"What's  lacking?"  He  was  in- 
stantly defensive.  "What  could  you 
possibly  want  that  you  don't  have?" 

"It's  something  I  can't  go  down 
to  Bullock's  and  buy,"  she  stormed, 
furious  with  herself  for  quarreling, 
angry  with  him  for  his  unwilling- 
ness to  understand  and  be  patient. 

He  turned  to  the  door.    "When 


you  find  out  what  it  is,  let  me  know 
and  I'll  get  it  at  a  discount." 

'TTIE  swinging  door  rocked  sharply 
with  his  going.  Elizabeth  put 
down  the  now  cold  cup  of  milk. 
What  a  fool  I  am  to  quarrel  with 
Brent.  I'm  unreasonable.  I  do 
have  everything,  she  told  herself. 

She  drew  her  housecoat  closer 
about  her  and  went  out  on  the  pa- 
tio. It  was  beginning  to  be  morn- 
ing. In  the  hibiscus  bush  a  mock- 
ing bird  chirped  sleepily.  The  swim- 
ming pool  looked  cold  and  dark. 
Elaine  had  forgotten  to  close  the 
garage  doors,  and  the  small  sports 
car  she  loved  glinted  bright  red. 
Elizabeth  looked  about.  The  neigh- 
borhood was  like  a  park,  trim  and 
green  and  fresh,  beautifully  cared 
for  by  the  patient  Japanese  garden- 
ers. 

The  dream  came  vividly  back  to 
her  mind.  She  went  into  the  house 
and  dressed  swiftly  in  a  sweater  and 
skirt  and  flat  blue  shoes.  She  came 
down  again  with  Elaine's  keys  in 
her  hands.  She  eased  the  little  red 
car  out  of  the  driveway  and  turned 
it  in  the  direction  of  the  sea.  How 
still  the  city  was  in  the  morning, 
and  how  beautiful  here  along  Sun- 
set Boulevard  with  its  curves  and 
green  hills  and  the  fog  not  closing 
down  grayly  but  wisping  beside  her 
like  a  gull's  wings. 

There  was  one  lone  fisherman 
on  the  beach.  She  walked  away 
from  him  toward  the  rocks  which 
jutted  out  a  little  way  into  the  sea. 
She  climbed  over  the  rocks  and 
found  a  little  hollow  where  the 
spray  could  not  reach  her.  The 
morning  wind  was  heavy  with  damp- 
ness.    It  blew   against  her.     The 


94 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


waves  came  in  heavily,  driven  by  the 
wind  and  crashed  upon  the  rocks. 

The  sea  has  not  changed  since 
the  beginning,  Elizabeth  thought. 
It  is  the  same  as  it  has  always  been. 
The  sand  is  the  same  consistency, 
and  the  earth  and  the  sky  and  stars 
.  .  .  but  we  have  changed.  We  have 
gotten  so  far  away  from  our  begin- 
nings that  we  cannot  remember 
what  it  was  that  we  were  meant  to 
be.  I  did  not  mean  to  be  the  way  I 
am,  an  idle,  discontented  woman, 
with  idle,  discontented  children. 
How  I  have  twisted  and  distorted 
the  girl  who  was  myself. 

She  sighed  and  dipped  sand  out 
of  the  rock.  What  am  I  supposed 
to  be?  To  do?  Why  was  I  placed 
here  on  this  island  winging  between 
all  the  other  islands  in  the  sky?  I 
do  not  give  my  children  bread  any 
more.    I  do  not  give  them  anything. 

The  fisherman  edged  toward  her, 
a  large  fish  dangling  from  his  hand. 
He  gestured  toward  her  with  the 
fish,  calling  to  her,  his  hand  curled 
around  his  mouth.  He  was  an  old 
man. 

"Do  you  want  it?"  he  shouted. 

She  nodded.  The  man  came  to- 
ward her.  "I  got  plenty  for  my- 
self." He  looked  at  her  narrowly. 
"It  ain't  safe  for  you  to  be  here 
.  .  .  alone  like  this." 

"But  it's  such  a  beautiful  place," 
she  protested. 

He  shook  his  head.  "A  beautiful 
place  is  where  no  ugly  thing  is, 
used  to  be  like  that,  years  ago.  No- 
body who  lived  around  here  then 
would  hurt  you.  But  they've 
changed,  got  black  inside  .  .  .  black- 
ness coming  out  in  cruel  dark 
things  they  do." 

"What  changed  them?" 


The  old  man  chuckled,  showing 
sparse  and  yellowing  teeth.  "We 
used  to  have  a  sayin'  'so  an'  so  is 
an  honest  man,'  we  used  to  say  .  .  . 
ever  hear  it?" 

She  nodded.  "My  grandfather, 
about  his  neighbors." 

He  put  the  fish  in  her  hands. 
"That's  what's  wrong  with  us,  lady. 
Not  enough  of  us  able  to  say  them 
simple  little  words  about  each  oth- 
er. 

She  took  the  fish  gingerly  and 
turned  in  the  direction  of  the  car. 
The  old  man  was  right,  of  course, 
it  had  been  foolish  to  come  to  this 
lonely  place.  But  she  felt  frustrated 
and  angry,  remembering  the  hills 
and  canyons  of  her  childhood  where 
she  had  wandered  free  and  safe  as 
a  bird. 

CHE  settled  herself  in  the  car  and 
went  down  the  ocean  highway  to 
Santa  Monica  Boulevard.  More  peo- 
ple were  abroad  now.  She  came  to 
Overland  Avenue,  stopped  for  a 
traffic  light.  She  looked  to  her  left 
and  caught  her  breath  at  the  sheer 
beauty  of  tall  white  walls  under  con- 
struction. This  must  be  the  new 
temple.  She  had  been  meaning  to 
come  down  to  see  the  grounds  ever 
since  the  papers  carried  the  news. 
She  turned  left  on  the  next  street 
and  made  her  way  into  the  grounds. 
The  builders  seemed  to  be  doing 
everything  at  once.  The  openings 
which  would  be  doors  were  board- 
ed over.  They  were  already  putting 
in  the  lawns  and  trees.  Inside  and 
outside  bore  evidence  of  feverish  ac- 
tivity. Palms  as  high  as  the  beau- 
tiful lower  walls  were  held  in  place 
by  wires.  Spruce,  too,  had  been 
brought  in  fully  grown,  and  these 


THERE  IS  STILL  TIME 


95 


also  were  secured  in  their  places  by 
wires.  The  earth  around  them  was 
damp  and  dark.  Pools  and  foun- 
tains of  soft  green  tile  were  almost 
finished.  North  of  the  temple  stood 
the  Harold  Lloyd  home,  battered 
and  beaten  now  from  the  struggle 
to  tear  it  down.  Elizabeth  remem- 
bered herself  as  a  child  reading 
about  the  Lloyd  estate,  trying  to 
imagine  its  beauty  from  the  printed 
word. 

She  left  the  car  and  wandered 
about,  picking  her  way  over  boards, 
broken  pieces  of  concrete,  bricks, 
and  all  the  other  paraphernalia  of 
building.  Morning  was  fully  come 
in  a  burst  of  sunlight  breaking 
through  the  fog,  dispersing  it.  The 
tall  tower  of  the  temple  gleamed  in 
the  sun.  There  were  a  few  men 
about  beginning  the  day's  work. 

Elizabeth  touched  the  polished 
surface  of  the  walls,  reverence  in  her 
fingers.  There  was  something  in- 
finitely moving  and  beautiful  about 
this  unfinished  building,  she 
thought,  reminder  of  a  holiness  im- 
plicit and  absolute.  She  peered 
through  the  doors,  trying  to  see  the 
finished  result  from  the  rough  be- 


ginning now  apparent.  Names  made 
pictures  in  her  mind,  Kirtland,  St. 
George,  Mesa  ....  I  wish,  she 
thought  with  a  pang,  that  we  had 
given  even  a  brick  to  the  building 
of  this  house  of  the  Lord. 

Such  a  long  time  since  she  had 
even  been  to  a  meeting,  not  going 
because  she  had  not  been  able  to 
endure  the  loneliness  of  going  alone. 
The  years  stretched  behind  her  to 
Beaver  and  the  little  meetinghouse 
there,  to  herself  in  bobby  socks  and 
saddle  shoes  being  chosen  queen  for 
the  green  and  gold  ball.  There  had 
never  been  a  moment  since  quite 
like  that.  The  time  Grandfather 
went  on  his  mission.  How  the 
people  had  turned  out.  Now  that 
had  been  a  night  of  joy  and  tears 
and  such  oneness  among  neighbors 
and  friends,  that  she,  only  a  girl  at 
the  time,  had  trembled  with  glad- 
ness, drinking  it  up  like  a  heavenly 
nectar. 

What  had  happened?  But  she 
knew.  She  had  always  known,  shut- 
ting the  knowledge  away  in  a  dark 
room  of  her  mind,  turning  the  key 
in  the  lock. 

(To  be  continued) 


cS 


now 


Christie  Lund  Coles 


A  white  goose  is  moving 
Across  the  gauze-veiled  sky, 
Moving  as  the  wind  moves, 
Rhythmical  and  high; 

Beauty  caught  in  transit, 
Note  the  white,  white  wing, 
Quiet  as  a  shadow, 
Covering  everything. 


Sixty    [J ears  J/igo 

Excerpts  From  the  Woman's  Exponent,  February  1,  and  February  15,  1896 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  IN  MARICOPA  STAKE:  President  Alice  Richens,  Mesa 
Ward,  Louisa  Harper,  Lehi  Ward,  Ann  Kleinman,  Alma  Ward,  Esther  Openshaw, 
Nephi  Ward,  and  Sister  Sarah  Tiffany  of  Papago  Ward,  gave  encouraging  reports  .... 
All  seemed  to  be  doing  as  well  as  usual,  although  there  seemed  to  be  a  faithful  few  who 
had  to  do  the  principal  part  of  the  work  of  the  respective  society,  but  upon  the  whole 
there  was  general  good  feeling  ....  President  Collin  R.  Hakes  was  altogether  proud  of 
the  Saints  of  Maricopa  Stake.  Spoke  a  short  time  on  the  duties  of  those  who  had  ac- 
cepted positions  of  responsibility  in  the  Church,  and  the  order  of  the  Gospel. 

— F.  E.  Robson,  Sec. 

A  LEADER  OF  WOMEN:  Mrs.  Carrie  Chapman-Catt  has  cleared  $140  for 
the  National  Organization  Committee  by  her  Woman  Suffrage  Calendars,  which  have 
found  a  ready  sale.    We  congratulate  her. 

— Selected 

AN  INTEREST  IN  GOVERNMENT:  Lady  Aberdeen  is  a  constant  attendant 
on  the  sessions  of  Parliament  in  Ottawa.  She  occupies  a  place  beside  the  Speaker  in 
the  House  of  Commons. 

— Selected 

HEART  BE  STILL 

Then  heart  be  thou  still,  cry  out  no  more! 

Thy  jewels  are  shining  there, 

In  gladness  they  tread  the  golden  streets, 

And  offer  for  thee  a  prayer. 

Now  hark!     Through  the  gathering  gloom 

Hear  the  angel  voices  tell, 

"Daughter  arise,  thy  cross  take  up, 

With  thy  loved  ones  all  is  well." 

— Lydia  D.  Alder 

WOMAN  OF  DESTINY:  Queen  Christina  of  Spain  has  been  asked  as  arbitrator 
to  settle  a  long  standing  dispute  over  the  boundary  lines  of  Columbia,  Equador  and 
Peru.  This  is  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  world  that  a  woman  has  been  chosen 
to  settle  an  international  dispute.  Her  administration  of  Spanish  affairs  has  been 
characterized  by  tact  and  statesmanlike  ability,  controlled  by  high  moral  principle;  and 
not  the  least  of  her  claims  to  admiration  is  the  fact  that  she  has  maintained  peace  in  a 
country  proverbial  for  being  in  a  state  of  constant  unrest  and  turmoil. 

— Woman's  Voice 

THE  THIRD  STAR:  The  early  Mormon  women  were  very  largely  of  New  Eng- 
land birth,  and  they  have  gloried  in  having  emulated  the  exile  and  privations  of  the 
Pilgrims  for  the  same  cause,  namely  freedom  to  worship  according  to  their  conscience. 

— Woman's  Tribune 

Page  96 


Woman's  Sphere 


Ramona  W.  Cannon 


M1 


■RS.  TATZUMBIE  DU  PEA,  a 
Piute  Indian,  born  in  Cali- 
fornia, is  one  hundred  and  six  years 
old  and  still  works  in  moving  pic- 
tures in  holes  representing  an  old 
Indian  woman.  Her  health  is 
good;  she  does  close  eye-work;  and 
she  has  recently  woven  a  rug  which 
she  uses  in  her  pictures. 


INURING  the  last  twenty-five 
years  in  the  United  States,  7,500 
volumes  on  child  care  have  been 
published.  Benjamin  Spock's  Com- 
mon Sense  Book  oi  Baby  and  Child 
Care  has  sold  70,000  hard-cover  edi- 
tions and  3,247,588  paperbacks 
since  it  was  published  in  1946. 


M  ARI  SANDOZ,  whose  first  book 
Old  Jules,  a  pioneer  story  of 
Nebraska,  won  favorable  acclaim, 
has  written  a  new  novel  Miss  Mo- 
rissa  —  Doctor  oi  the  Gold  Trail, 
the  dramatic  narrative  of  a  young 
woman  doctor  who  lived  in  a  "sod- 
dy"  on  the  Nebraska  plains  and  de- 
votedly followed  her  profession  de- 
spite the  frontier  animosity  toward 
"lady  docs." 

T\R.    EMMA    SADLER    MOSS, 

fifty-seven,  of  New  Orleans 
Charity  Hospital,  became  the  first 
woman  in  the  United  States  to  head 
a  major  professional  medical  society 
when  she  was  installed  as  president 
of  the  American  Society  of  Clinical 
Pathologists  in  Chicago,  recently. 

TN    1954    m    tne    United    States, 
4,073,000  babies  were  born,  an 
all-time  high  figure. 


|7LMA  Milotte  and  her  husband 
Alfred  spent  almost  three  years 
with  their  technicolor  cameras  tak- 
ing shots  —  some  very  close  indeed 
—  of  the  animals  we  may  now  see 
in  Walt  Disney's  "The  African 
Lion."  This  is  an  astonishingly  inti- 
mate picture  of  wild  creatures  in 
their  native  haunts,  namely  Kenya, 
Uganda,  Tanganyika,  and  other 
African  lands. 


OIRTHDAY  congratulations  are 
extended  to:  Mrs.  Celestia  M. 
Terry  Peterson,  Fairview,  Utah, 
ninety-five;  Mrs.  Emma  Matins, 
Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  ninety-two; 
Mrs.  Florence  Tritt  Jones,  Oak  City, 
Utah,  Mrs.  Annie  B.  Jarvis,  South 
Jordan,  Utah,  and  Mrs.  Mary  B. 
Egan,  Salt  Lake  City,  each  ninety- 
one;  Mrs.  Emma  Eliason,  Brigham 
City,  Utah,  ninety. 

Page  97 


D1TORJA' 


VOL.   43 


FEBRUARY   1956 


NO.    2 


KSl4 


nniversary  \JLJay 


®, 


a 


HPHE  Spirit  of  God  Like  a  Fire 
Is  Burning/'  the  opening  song 
of  that  memorable  meeting  held 
March  17,  1842,  in  Joseph  Smith's 
store  in  Nauvoo,  Illinois,  gave  voice 
to  the  spirit  that  burned  within  the 
hearts  of  eighteen  women  who  gath- 
ered together  by  appointment,  that 
a  Prophet  of  God  might  organize 
them  into  a  society  for  service  and 
self-development. 

With  the  passing  years  the  hearts 
of  thousands  of  women  have  be- 
come fired  with  the  spirit  of  Relief 
Society.  Its  benevolent  administra- 
tions have  been  a  blessing;  its  count- 
less opportunities  for  self-expression 
have  brought  joy  and  development 
to  Latter-day  Saint  women;  its 
achievements  have  been  glorious. 

In  commemoration  of  March  17, 
the  gratitude  of  Relief  Society  mem- 
bers will  be  expressed  in  Anniver- 
sary Day  observances.  Thousands  of 
women  in  many  countries  through- 
out the  world  will  "honor  those  who 
fashioned  for  good  the  ideals  we 
cherish."  The  entire  Relief  Society 
sisterhood  will  pause  to  take 
thought  of  the  divinity  within  our 
organization,  of  the  inspiration  that 
guides  its  destinies;  they  will  pray 
that  it  may  know  an  even  more 
glorious  future. 

Therefore  it  seems  fitting  that 
Anniversary  Day  programs  interpret 
the  spirit  of  the  organization. 
Though  not  necessarily  somber  and 
formal,   a   certain   dignity  and   ap- 

Page  98 


propriateness     should     characterize 
them. 

An  understanding  of  the  purposes 
of  the  organization,  an  appreciation 
of  its  history  and  accomplishments, 
an  insight  into  the  lives  of  those 
who  have  contributed  to  its  onward 
march  are  evidenced  in  many  inter- 
esting programs  of  the  past. 

An  entertaining  and  appropriate 
program  centering  around  Eliza 
Roxey  Snow,  the  first  general  presi- 
dent of  the  Society  in  the  valleys 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  was  given 
in  one  of  the  wards.  Sister  Snow 
was  presented  in  a  brief  biograph- 
ical sketch  as  patriot,  poetess,  and 
religious  leader.  This  was  followed 
by  the  rendition  of  "0  My  Father," 
that  inspired  gem  for  which  she  will 
always  be  loved  and  remembered. 
Other  familiar  songs,  the  words  of 
which  were  her  compositions,  were 
rendered  as  vocal  and  instrumental 
numbers.  Two  of  her  poems  were 
read,  "I  Love  My  Flag"  and  "My 
Heart  Is  Fix'd."  Concluding  the 
program,  a  brief  explanation  of  the 
Eliza  Roxey  Snow  Memorial  Poem 
Contest  was  given,  and  the  prize- 
winning  poem  for  the  year  was  read 
by  its  composer. 

Each  of  our  general  presidents 
has  been  unusually  endowed,  her 
contribution  unique,  and  any  one 
of  the  presidents  might  be  similarly 
featured  on  Anniversary  Day  pro- 
grams. 

Ward    Relief    Society    histories 


EDITORIAL 


99 


lend  themselves  to  profitable  enter- 
tainment. A  recent  Anniversary 
program  dramatized  the  most  out- 
standing contribution  of  each  ad- 
ministration to  the  growth  of  the 
ward  Relief  Society  organization.  A 
reader  introduced  each  scene  by 
reading  explanatory  excerpts  direct- 
ly from  the  history,  and  concluded 
the  scene  by  introducing  the  sister 
who  was  president  of  that  particular 
administration.  This  ward  was  for- 
tunate in  having  each  past  president 
present.  A  bouquet  of  flowers  was 
presented  to  each,  and  a  brief  re- 
sponse given.  The  Singing  Mothers 
rendered  musical  numbers  after 
each  scene. 

Delightful  entertainments  have 
been  given  featuring  various  phases 
of  the  Relief  Society  program— wel- 
fare, education,  homemaking,  and 
music.  A  large  replica  of  the  Maga- 
zine was  utilized  by  one  ward  in  its 
Anniversary  Day  program.  The 
Magazine  was  opened  like  a  door, 
by  a  woman  beautifully  gowned  in 
white,  representing  Relief  Society. 
From  the  pages  of  the  Magazine  the 
sisters  stepped  forth  and  formed  ef- 
fective still  pictures  of  each  phase 
of  the  work;  each  picture  was  in- 
troduced by  a  reader.  Special 
musical  numbers  were  rendered. 
This  program  closed  with  women 
ranging  in  age  from  very  young  to 
those  of  advanced  years,  represent- 
ing Relief  Society  membership.  The 
last  scene  was  most  effective,  sum- 
ming up  the  meaning  of  Relief  So- 
ciety in  the  lives  of  its  members. 

Wholesome  social  contacts  have 
always  been  encouraged.  How  many 
appropriate  Relief  Society  birthday 
parties  have  been  given,  with  at- 
tractive   tables,    centered    with    a 


birthday  cake,  and  delicious  lunch- 
eons served!  Anniversary  Day  is  an 
ideal  time  for  providing  dignified 
and  delightful  social  entertainment. 

Anniversary  programs  should  uti- 
lize Relief  Society  members  as  far 
as  possible.  If  the  entertainment 
is  given  at  night  the  use  of  children 
should  be  avoided.  Relief  Society 
is  an  organization  of  mothers  work- 
ing for  the  best  interests  of  chil- 
dren. Little  children  should  not 
be  deprived  of  sleep  in  order  to  en- 
tertain mothers.  If  games  are  used 
in  our  entertainments  they  should 
be  games  which  challenge  the  inter- 
est of  mature  women. 

Should  those  eighteen  charter 
members  of  Relief  Society  step 
from  the  pages  of  history  on  March 
17,  1956,  would  they  be  proud  and 
happy  to  join  with  your  ward  in  its 
Anniversary  observance?  Would 
they  feel  again  the  spirit  felt  that 
March  17,  1842?  Would  they  see 
their  ideals  a  living  issue,  magnified, 
bringing  joy  to  every  Latter-day 
Saint  woman?  Anniversary  Day 
programs  should  be  more  than  ordi- 
nary programs  with  the  usual  run 
of  music  and  verse.  They  should 
stir  us  afresh  with  an  appreciation 
of  our  organization.  They  should 
bring  together  the  women  of  the 
Church  in  a  spirit  of  love  and  fel- 
lowship. Anniversary  Day  should 
be  a  day  when  every  woman  has  a 
good  time,  when  she  returns  to  her 
home  grateful  for  the  greatness  of 
the  organization  and  her  member- 
ship in  it,  singing  in  her  heart: 

For  glorious  achievement  throughout  the 
passing  years, 

For  wond'rous  devotion  that  ever  endears, 

We  honor  and  love  those  who  fashioned 
for  good 

The  ideals  we  cherish,  ennobling  woman- 
hood. — B.  S.  S. 


<Sln    1 1  lemortam  -  -    1 1  tar a   i^rant   {faciei 

Tyt ary  Grant  Judd  who  was  appointed  to  the  general  board  of  Relief 
Society  in  January  1940,  passed  away  on  Saturday,  December  17,  1955. 
Sister  Judd  was  a  devoted  Latter-day  Saint  and  a  faithful  Relief  Society 
worker.  She  was  ever  alert  to  shades  of  meaning  in  the  written  word  and 
fearless  in  defending  a  position  which  she  felt  was  right.  She  was  original 
and  creative,  with  a  keen  sense  of  humor  which  did  not  desert  her.  Through- 
out her  illness  she  maintained  a  cheerful  and  hopeful  outlook. 

During  the  sixteen  years  that  Sister  Judd  has  labored  on  the  general 
board,  she  has  been  associated  with  many  committees  and  she  worked 
zealously  as  a  committee  member  in  connection  with  the  Centennial 
observance  which  was  to  be  celebrated  in  1942,  but  which  was  not  held 
because  of  war  restrictions.  Her  careful  performance  on  the  theology  com- 
mittee, of  which  she  was  a  member  at  her  death,  was  also  outstanding.  Her 
wide  travels  gave  to  her  an  appreciation  of  the  beautiful  which,  with  her 
literary  talents,  enriched  her  life. 

The  general  board  and  Sister  Judd's  friends  throughout  the  stakes  and 
missions  of  the  Church  extend  their  sympathy  to  her  family  and  to  her  six 
devoted  children  to  whom  she  has  passed  on  an  illustrious  heritage. 


\Btrthdau  C^ongratulattons  to  QJormer  ir  resident 
KjLmu   'Jjrowa  JLuman 

Congratulations  and  best  wishes  are  extended  to  our  beloved  former 
president  Amy  Brown  Lyman  for  her  birthday,  February  7th.  In  the 
stakes  and  missions  of  the  Church,  Relief  Society  women  are  grateful  for 
her  many  years  of  service  to  the  organization.  She  became  a  member  of 
the  general  board  in  1909,  was  appointed  general  secretary-treasurer  in  1913, 
first  counselor  to  President  Louise  Y.  Robison  in  1928,  and  general  presi- 
dent in  1940,  serving  as  a  wise  and  gifted  leader  until  her  release  in  1945. 
Sister  Lyman  still  serves  Relief  Society  as  literature  leader  in  her  ward. 
Her  guiding  hand  and  her  spirit  of  service,  as  well  as  her  example  of  dili- 
gence and  devotion,  have  become  an  integral  part  of  the  Relief  Society 
organization.  It  has  been  said  —  ''beautiful  are  the  hands  of  the  build- 
ers" —  and  we  would  add:  beautiful  and  lasting  are  the  accomplishments 
of  Sister  Amy  Brown  Lyman. 

Page  100 


TbobiiL 

TO  THE  FIELD 


I  totes  QJrom  the  QJield  Should  be  Submitted  [Promptly 

\X7E  call  attention  to  the  instruction  given  at  the  annual  Relief  Society 
conference   and   sent  to  stake  Relief  Society  presidents  regarding 
Notes  From  the  Field,  wherein  it  states  that: 

We  want  to  keep  the  Notes  current  and  up-to-date,  and  in  view  of  the  fact  that 
the  Magazine  is  prepared  three  months  in  advance  of  publication,  we  request  that  ma- 
terial for  the  Notes  be  sent  to  us  as  soon  as  possible,  and  not  later  than  three  months 
after  the  event,  otherwise  the  lapse  of  time  between  the  event  and  its  publication  is 
too  great.  Please  do  not  send  more  than  one  picture  of  the  same  event  to  us  as  the 
selection  of  the  best  picture  should  be  made  by  the  local  organization  itself. 

Pictures  or  activities  which  have  appeared  in  the  Church  Section  of  the  Deseret 
News  are  not  printed  in  the  Magazine  because  they  reach  largely  the  same  readers. 

When  pictures  of  stake  boards  are  submitted  for  publication,  it  is  essential  that 
they  be  in  connection  with  an  account  of  a  Relief  Society  activity. 

This  ruling  went  into  effect  as  of  January  i,  1956. 


[Programs  for  JfLnntversaru   UJau 

T)LAYS,  pageants,  and  programs  suitable  for  presentation  as  a  part  of  the  observance  of 
■*•  Anniversary  Day,  March  17th,  may  be  obtained  at  the  office  of  the  general  board  of 
Relief  Society,  40  North  Main  Street,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  at  a  cost  of  15c  for  each 
program.  The  following  programs  are  suggested  as  suitable  for  Anniversary  Day: 

1.  "A  Great  Day  for  Women."  A  re-enactment  of  the  organization  of  Relief 
Society  written  in  the  spirit  of  the  occasion,  historically  accurate,  although  not  all  state- 
ments are  direct  quotations. 

Characters:  Eight  who  speak,  thirteen  who  represent  others  present. 
Time:  Approximately  25-30  minutes. 

2.  "Relief  Society  Memory  Book,"  script  by  Virginia  Driggs  Clark.  Additions 
by  Marianne  C.  Sharp  and  Alberta  H.  Christensen. 

Characters:  Reader  and  nine  women  from  album  representing  the  different  general 
Relief  Society  presidents. 

Time:  Approximately  30  minutes. 

3.  "On  Your  Birthday,"  by  Alberta  H.  Christensen.  A  very  short  playlet  in  one 
scene  dealing  with  the  organization  of  Relief  Society  in  a  generalized  way. 

Characters:  Three  —  Time:  Approximately  10  minutes. 

For  a  complete  list  of  plays,  pageants,  and  programs,  see  The  Relief  Society  Maga- 
zine for  November  1953,  pages  745-749. 

Page  101 


LKecipes  QJrom  ^YLustralia 

Submitted  by  Irene  T.  Eiekson 

Trifle 
(Elsie  F.  Partem) 

1  stale  cake,  plain  or  sponge,  broken  into  pieces.  Moisten  with  orange  juice. 

Have  ready  a  cool  custard;  pour  over  gently  and  mix  without  breaking  cake.  Over 
this  put  set  jello,  cut  into  cubes  (red  and  green  or  red  and  yellow) .  Cover  with  whipped 
cream  flavored  with  vanilla  and  sugar.  Sprinkle  with  chopped  walnuts  or  almonds,  or 
glazed  cherries.     Chill.     Cut  and  serve  in  wedges. 

Steak  and  Kidney  Pie 
(Elsie  F.  Parton) 

1  lb.  steak,  cut  into  2-inch  pieces  (remove  all  fat) 

2  kidneys — sheep,  ox,  or  veal  (skin  and  cut  into  small  pieces) 
i  medium  onion,  cut  fine 

Simmer  meat  and  onion  in  water  until  tender.  Season  with  salt  and  pepper  to 
taste.  Thicken  with  i  Vi  tbsp.  flour.  Add  i  tsp.  Vegemite  (or  substitute  Kitchen  Bou- 
quet gravy  mix)  for  color.  Line  greased  pie  tin  with  pastry.  Fill  pie  with  meat  mix- 
ture; cover  with  pastry  and  prick  with  fork.  Brush  pastry  with  milk.  Bake  in  very  hot 
oven  until  brown. 

Pastry 

6  oz.  shortening  i   tbsp.  lemon  juice 

Vi   tsp.  baking  powder  i  egg  yolk 

i   tbsp.  water  pinch  salt 
Vi    lb.  flour 

Sift  flour,  baking  powder,  salt.  Rub  shortening  into  flour  until  mixture  looks  like 
bread  crumbs.  Add  water,  egg,  lemon  juice,  gradually,  making  into  a  dry  dough.  Turn 
onto  lightly  floured  board  and  handle  as  lightly  as  possible.  When  rolling  out,  move 
rolling  pin  in  one  direction  only,  not  back  and  forth. 

Coconut  Biscuits  (Cookies) 
(Irenia  P.  Innis) 

Vi    lb.  arrowroot  biscuits    (or   use    Vi    lb.         i   tsp.  vanilla 

vanilla  wafers)  coconut,  finely  cut 

l  tin  condensed  milk  2  tbsp.  cocoa 

Roll  the  biscuits  out  fine;  add  cocoa;  moisten  with  condensed  milk  to  which  the 
vanilla  has  been  added.  Mix  well;  make  into  small  balls,  about  l  inch  in  diameter.  Roll 
in  coconut,  and  flatten. 

Boiled  Fruit  Cake 

Vi   lb.  raisins  i  c.  sugar 

i  Vz   lb.  mixed  fruit  i   lb.  butter  or  margarine 

i  c.  water  i   tsp.  soda 

Place  above  ingredients  in  saucepan.  Bring  to  boil,  and  cook  5  minutes,  stirring 
constantly.  Let  cool.  Add  Vi  tsp.  cinnamon,  Vi  tsp.  ginger,  1  tbsp.  vanilla.  Break  in 
6  unbeaten  eggs;  mix  well  together.  Add  1  cup  walnuts.  Gently  stir  in  4  cups  self- 
rising  flour.  Line  tins  with  heavy  paper  and  grease  well.  Bake  at  30o°F.  for  3  hours. 
While  baking,  cover  pans  with  more  heavy  paper. 

Where  self-rising  flour  cannot  be  obtained,  add  baking  powder  according  to  amount 
of  flour,  as  directed  on  the  can. 

Page  102 


cJnbute  to  the    Visiting  cJeachers 

Wanda  Pexton 

A  visiting  teacher  is  a  helping  hand  to  the  Relief  Society  in  reaching  out  and  draw- 
ing our  sisters  into  this  noble  organization. 

She  is  an  angel  of  mercy  as  well  as  a  missionary.  It  is  her  desire  and  also  a  privi- 
lege to  relieve  the  needy  and  distressed,  to  give  succor  and  comfort  in  times  of  illness 
and  death.  She  can  uplift  the  spirit  by  instilling  love,  faith,  peace,  and  harmony  as 
she  enters  the  threshold  of  each  home. 


C/he    1 1  la j es tic    View 

Ruth  Wilson 

A  tropical  sun  shone  down  unmercifully,  wilting  the  hikers  on  the  precipitous  moun- 
tain path.  Exhausted,  they  halted  and  wished  for  water.  Resting  often,  in  the 
sparse  shade  of  overhanging  bushes,  they  encouraged  each  other  with  the  thought  of  the 
majestic  view  visible  from  the  summit. 

I  too  have  climbed  life's  rugged  path,  beset  with  discouragement  and  weariness, 
and  halting,  wondered  if  I  could  achieve  my  ideals  and  purposes.  Yet,  I,  too,  have 
fell  the  awesome  and  exultant  thrill  of  extended,  comprehensive  vision. 


^Jjown    Under 

Ruth  MacKay 

The  strength  and  the  pride  of  a  nation  lie  in  its  people,  they  say, 

And  here  the  casual  Australian  excels  in  his  happy  way; 

The  strength  of  the  blue  hills  upholds  him,  in  his  search  for  the  right  and  true; 

And  the  sun-drenched  acres  of  country  give  him  vision  to  carry  it  through. 

His  soul  is  inspired  by  the  beauty  of  rivers  and  lakes  and  of  sea; 

And  wherever  there's  danger  to  threaten,  that's  where  Aussies  are  likely  to  be. 

We  welcome  a  new  population,  from  lands  in  sore  trouble  o'er-sea, 
And  gladly  accept  their  traditions,  with  the  crafts  and  the  cultures  they  bring; 
But  we  must  not  forget  our  first  settlers,  the  black  men  whose  praises  we'll  sing, 
For  paintings  and  carvings  they've  left  us,  on  their  long  walkabouts  through 

the  scrub, 
When  the  country  was  wide-open  spaces,  and  they  lived  on  the  witchetty  grub  .  . 


We  lift  up  our  voices,  Australians,  in  praise  of  this  great  open  land, 

And  give  to  our  brothers  in  friendship,  the  warmth  of  our  welcoming  hand. 

We'll  go  on  together  to  make  this  a  home  full  of  plenty  and  peace, 

And  the  nations  which  see  us  will  wonder  and  their  talks  of  war  shall  cease. 

Our  destiny  is  in  the  future,  let's  make  it  as  great  as  we  can, 

So  lift  up  your  voices,  Australians.     Be  proud  of  your  own  noble  land! 

Page  103 


World  of  Three 


Nell  Murbarger 


BY  four  o'clock  of  a  midwinter 
afternoon,  a  great  stack  of 
juniper  wood  and  pitch-pine 
bark  would  have  been  corded  be- 
hind the  cookstove  in  our  little  one- 
room  homestead  shanty.  The  dozen 
hens  would  have  been  fed,  the  eggs 
gathered,  two  cows  milked,  and  the 
two  horses  comfortably  bedded  for 
the  long  night  ahead. 

On  these  winter  days,  our  thin, 
cold  sun  never  seemed  actually  to 
set,  but,  with  the  waning  hours  of 
afternoon,  receded  only  a  bit  farther 
into  the  dull  gray  void  of  the  winter 
sky.  With  that  final  recession,  night 
would  close  upon  us,  a  night  when 
the  wild  wind  of  the  High  Plains 
country  would  whistle  and  wail,  and 
snow  would  pile  deeply  around  the 
little  sod  claim  shack,  where  Father 
and  Mother  constituted  my  world 
and  all  its  people. 

Even  though  there  had  been 
nothing  beyond  those  four  walls 
but  whirling  winter  and  gray  vague- 
ness and  lean  coyotes  slinking 
through  the  coulees,  it  would  have 
been  enough  for  me,  for  within 
those  walls  I  never  knew  any  lack 
of  warmth  and  peace  and  love,  and 
the  glory  of  home. 

As  Father  returned  to  the  house 
from  his  final  inspection  of  barn  and 
cattle,  the  angry  wind  would  whip 
through  the  hastily  opened  slab  door 
to  lay  a  skiff  of  snow  on  the  floor, 
and  whirl  through  the  room  like  a 
busy  old  woman  hunting  a  stray 
particle  of  dust.  But  once  Father 
was  inside,  the  door  would  be 
closed,  the  heavy  crossbar  dropped 
into  place  behind  it;  and,  with  a 

Page  104 


folded  burlap  sack  laid  along  the 
crack  at  the  door's  lower  edge,  all 
the  wind  and  weather  and  winter 
would  be  shut  outside  like  an  un- 
welcome intruder! 

Removing  his  four-buckle  Arctics 
and  his  sheepskin  coat  and  cap,  Fa- 
ther would  knock  them  free  of  en- 
crusting snow  and  hang  them  beside 
the  stove  to  dry;  and  with  his  back 
turned  to  the  crackling  wood  blaze 
and  hands  locked  behind  him,  he 
would  stand  for  awhile,  rocking  back 
and  forth  on  the  balls  of  his  feet, 
and  warming  himself.  Usually  he 
had  some  story  to  tell  —  some  amus- 
ing antic  of  the  horses,  or  something 
the  snowbirds  had  done  that  after- 
noon. 

Darkness  came  early  on  those 
midwinter  days,  and,  even  though 
it  would  be  no  more  than  four  or 
five  o'clock  when  we  ate  supper,  the 
kerosene  lamp  would  be  burning 
brightly  in  its  wall  bracket,  and  the 
gray  breast  feathers  of  night  would 
be  pressing  against  the  small  panes 
of  our  single  window.  And  then, 
with  the  supper  dishes  washed  and 
dried  and  stacked  away  neatly  in 
the  apple-box  cupboard,  the  long 
winter  evening  —  like  an  anticipat- 
ed drama  —  was  ready  to  begin. 

"\\7E  had  no  television,  no  radio, 
no  moving  pictures,  no  close 
neighbors,  and,  virtually,  no  money; 
yet,  we  never  wanted  for  something 
to  do.  Sometimes  we  hand-cleaned 
navy  beans,  picking  out  pebbles  and 
bits  of  pod,  and  leaving  only  perfect 
beans  to  be  traded  to  the  grocer  for 
sugar  and  flour.     Other  times  we 


WORLD  OF  THREE 


105 


shelled  seed  corn  or  mended  har- 
ness; but,  even  though  we  had  no 
special  work  to  perform,  there  was 
never  any  lack  of  activity. 

Gathered  around  the  oilcloth-cov- 
ered kitchen  table,  we  played  " Au- 
thors," "Old  Maid,"  or  "Pit,"  or  en- 
joyed lively  sessions  of  dominoes  or 
croquinole.  Or  mother  and  father 
would  play  checkers,  with  me  look- 
ing on  and  trying  desperately  to 
foresee  the  "traps"  they  were  laying 
for  one  another. 

In  the  course  of  every  evening 
there  was  certain  to  be  an  hour  or 
so  when  we  took  turns  reading 
aloud.  No  matter  how  little  money 
there  might  be  for  other  things,  we 
always  managed  to  take  a  few  maga- 
zines —  Youth's  Companion,  Farm 
and  Home,  Comfort,  and,  generally, 
the  National  Geographic.  And,  al- 
though there  was  no  library  closer 
than  the  distant  county  seat  —  an 
almost  mythical  town  which  we  vis- 
ited not  oftener  than  twice  each 
year  —  we  even  had  books  to  read. 
Some  of  them,  such  as  Robinson 
Crusoe,  Treasure  Island,  and  Swiss 
Family  Robinson,  had  been  cher- 
ished by  Father  and  Mother  in 
their  own  childhood.  Others  had 
been  sent  to  us  by  city  relatives  as 
Christmas  and  birthday  gifts;  but, 
whatever  its  manner  of  origin,  every 
one  of  those  volumes  had  been  read 
and  reread  until  it  was  smudged  and 
weary  and  limp-backed,  and  almost 
committed  to  memory.  But  what 
a  wonderful  wide  world  came  troop- 
ing past  our  fireside  through  the 
pages  of  Joseph  C.  Lincoln,  Gene 
Stratton  Porter,  and  Harold  Bell 
Wright!  As  Father  read  aloud  in 
his  full,  rich  voice,  or  I  took  my 
turn   struggling,   not  too   skillfully, 


with  the  grownup  words  and  phras- 
es, Mother  would  always  be  busy  at 
some  sort  of  sewing  —  either  mend- 
ing or  braiding  strips  of  rags  for  a 
rug,  or  piecing  quilt  blocks. 

COMETIMES,  as  the  evening 
progressed,  Father  would  take 
the  little  wire  corn  popper  from  its 
nail  on  the  side  of  the  cupboard 
and,  ladling  into  it  a  few  handfuls 
of  popcorn  we  had  grown  that  sum- 
mer, he  would  shake  it  over  the  fire 
until  the  tender  white  grains  began 
bursting  with  a  staccato  clatter. 
After  a  huge  panful  had  been 
popped,  Mother  would  melt  a  gen- 
erous slice  of  butter  and  stir  it  into 
the  fluffy  mass.  Sometimes,  for  a 
change,  we  parched  sweet  corn  — 
the  hard,  dry  kernels  being  placed  in 
a  skillet,  with  butter  and  salt,  and 
heated  until  they  swelled  to  double 
their  volume  and  became  crisp  and 
crunchy;  or  we  made  popcorn  balls, 
or  pulled  taffy,  using  Mother's  scis- 
sors to  cut  it  into  fat  little  pillows. 
For  extra-special  occasions,  we 
might  have  even  a  dish  of  fruit;  but 
apples  must  be  shipped  all  the  way 
from  Oregon,  and,  consequently, 
were  scarce  and  expensive;  oranges 
were  never  seen  save  at  Christmas 
time,  and  bananas  were  seldom 
seen  at  all. 

With  the  hour  drawing  toward 
nine,  Father  would  shake  down  the 
grate  and  poke  the  embers,  sending 
a  shower  of  gleaming  sparks  sailing 
into  the  dark  night.  Games  and 
books  laid  aside,  we  would  pull  our 
chairs  to  the  fire.  With  Zip,  the 
Collie,  resting  her  cold  muzzle  on 
Father's  knee  and  looking  search- 
ingly  into  his  face,  and  Stripes,  the 
tiger   cat,   purring   contentedly   on 


106 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


Mother's  lap,  we  would  talk  of  our 
hopes  for  the  spring  ahead,  the  gar- 
den we  would  plant,  the  baby  chicks 
we  would  raise. 

It  didn't  matter  that  our  home 
was  only  a  drab  little  sod  shanty, 
lost  in  a  winter  void.  Despite  its 
plainness  and  crudeness,  its  walls 
and  roof  were  stout  and  tight,  and 


it  was  ours  —  a  symbol  of  our  se- 
curity, our  solidarity  as  a  family,  our 
ability  to  meet  the  High  Plains 
country  on  its  own  terms.  No  mat- 
ter how  wildly  the  wind  might 
howl,  how  cold  and  dark  the  night, 
our  animals  were  dry  and  warm  in 
the  barn,  and  peace  and  content- 
ment reigned  in  our  World  of 
Three. 


cJable    Jjecorattons  for  <ytnatversary   LQatf 

Inez  R.  Allen 

"C^ACH  year  as  the  month  of  March  approaches,  we  are  mindful  that  it  brings  the 
*-^  anniversary  of  our  beloved  Relief  Society.  We  have  been  privileged  to  have  this 
organization  for  nearly  one  hundred  and  fourteen  years.  It  gives  to  our  sisters  a  well- 
rounded  development  and  growth  through  service. 

Most  great  people  and  events  are  honored  on  their  anniversaries.  Their  many  vir- 
tues and  achievements  are  rehearsed.  None  deserves  special  mention  more  than  does 
our  Relief  Society  organization. 

The  picture  on  the  opposite  page  was  taken  of  a  table-setting  designed  to  represent 
the  many  phases  of  this  organization. 

In  all  good  arrangements  there  is  always  a  focal  point,  something  of  special  interest. 
Inasmuch  as  this  was  our  anniversary  celebration,  a  large  oblong  cake  was  used  as  the 
point  of  interest.  White  icing  was  used  as  background,  and  large  yellow  roses  and  rose- 
buds, with  an  occasional  tiny  bluebird,  made  an  attractive  border.  In  the  center  was 
written: 

Happy  Birthday 

Relief  Society 

1842  —  1955 

The  cake  was  supported  on  a  bank  of  green  lemon  leaves,  which  afforded  an  at- 
tractive background  for  the  many  golden  daffodils  and  blue  Dutch  iris.  These  two 
flowers  were  chosen  because  they  represent  the  "blue  and  gold"  emblem  of  the  Relief 
Society  organization. 

The  dolls,  dressed  in  pastel  colors  of  pink,  green,  yellow,  orchid,  blue,  and  white, 
represented  the  six  phases  of  the  Relief  Society  programs.  They  are  seen  presenting  a 
candle  around  which  is  draped  a  ribbon.  On  the  ribbon  is  printed  each  special  phase. 
They  are:  Theology,  Work  Meeting,  Literature,  Social  Science,  Visiting  Teachers,  and 
the  Magazine.  Each  doll  carries  an  article  representing  her  special  phase,  for  example, 
the  one  representing  Theology  carries  a  tiny  Book  of  Mormon;  for  Literature  it  is  a 
miniature  book  of  the  Literature  of  England.     A  basket  carrying  small  quilt  blocks, 


TABLE  DECORATIONS  FOR  ANNIVERSARY  DAY 


107 


Hal  Rumel 


TABLE  SETTING  FOR  A  RELIEF  SOCIETY  ANNIVERSARY  PARTY 


thimble,  thread,  and  needle,  and  a  tiny  tea  towel,  represents  the  Work  Meeting.  So- 
cial Science  holds  a  miniature  scroll  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States.  A  small 
duplicate  of  the  Magazine  represents  that  phase,  while  the  last  doll  carries  a  Visiting 
Teacher  blank. 

There  is  one  more  thing  that  is  outstanding  in  the  Relief  Society  program.  It  is 
the  music.  The  harmony  and  spirit  with  which  the  songs  are  sung  are  really  thrilling 
and  inspirational.  The  Singing  Mothers  in  nearly  every  ward  have  achieved  great  suc- 
cess and  honor.  To  represent  this,  musical  notes  of  gilded  paper  were  placed  at  stra- 
tegic places  throughout  the  arrangement. 

Using  the  suggestions  offered  here,  several  different  arrangements  might  be  made, 
for  example: 

1.  A  float,  made  of  flowers  or  some  other  material  carrying  these  different  phases, 
could  very  beautifully  be  arranged. 

2.  Perhaps  a  May  Pole,  representing  the  Relief  Society,  might  be  made  with  rib- 
bons reaching  out  to  each  doll. 

3.  A  garden  scene  wherein  the  dolls  might  be  the  center  of  a  beautiful  flower  plot. 
The  flowers  in  each  case  would  match  the  color  of  the  dress. 

4.  A  low,  long  arrangement  with  the  six  representing  candles  formed  in  a  semi- 
circle at  one  end  of  the  flowers. 

With  a  bit  of  imagination  and  a  clever  use  of  flowers  and  symbols,  our  Relief 
Society  can  reign  supreme  on  each  anniversary. 


Salads  for  utealth  and  {Beauty 

Rhea  H.  Gardner 

Extension  Service  Home  Management  and  Furnishings  Specialist 
Utah  State  Agricultural  College 

THE  list  of  possible  combinations  of  vegetables  and  fruits  for  salads  is  as  long  as  your 
imagination.  If  you  have  plenty  of  imagination,  you  will  have  little  need  for 
recipes.  However,  sometimes  our  imagination  gets  a  bit  sluggish  and  requires  a  little 
push  to  get  it  going.  That's  the  purpose  of  the  following  recipes  and  suggestions  for 
salad  combinations. 

Vegetable  Salad  Combinations 

1.  Cut  or  break  up  leaves  of  lettuce,  endive,  and  water  cress.  Toss  together  in  a 
salad  bowl  with  tomato  wedges,  sliced  cucumbers,  radishes,  and  little  green  onions, 
sliced.    Serve  with  French  dressing. 

2.  Mix  thinly  sliced  radishes,  water  cress,  endive,  and  cauliflower  broken  into  pencil 
size  flowerets.    Toss  together  with  French  dressing. 

3.  Mix  together  narrow  strips  of  green  pepper,  sliced  celery,  cucumber,  and  very 
thinly  sliced  carrots  and  turnips.  Serve  on  a  bed  of  lettuce  with  French  or  Thousand 
Island  dressing. 

4.  Toss  together,  just  before  serving  time,  shredded  cabbage,  shredded  tender  young 
beets,  and  very  thin  strips  of  green  pepper.     Season  with  French  dressing. 

Fruit  Salad  Combinations 

1.  Alternate  wedges  of  avocado,  orange,  and  grapefruit  on  a  bed  of  lettuce  or 
endive.     Serve  with  fruit  French  dressing. 

2.  Combine  melon  balls  of  honeydew,  cantaloupe,  and  watermelon.  Serve  in  let 
tuce  cups  with  fruit  French  dressing. 

3.  Combine  equal  amounts  of  cantaloupe  or  honeydew  melon  balls  with  sections 
of  grapefruit.  Serve  with  pineapple  dressing. 

4.  Peel  and  core  fresh  or  canned  pears.  For  each  serving  allow  half  a  pear.  Frost 
with  softened  cream  cheese  and  roll  in  chopped  peanuts  or  blanched  and  toasted  al- 
monds.    Serve  with  or  without  a  cream-type  dressing. 

Fresh  Fruit  Salad  Plate 

Any  variety  of  fresh  fruit  may  be  used.  Select  fruit  combinations  that  will  give  a 
pleasing  color  harmony.  Leave  berries  and  sweet  cherries  whole,  cut  peaches,  fresh  pine- 
apple, melons,  and  pears  in  bite-size  pieces. 

Fruit  Plate  as  a  Dessert 

Finely  crush  ice  and  form  on  a  mound  on  a  serving  platter.  Put  one  end  of  a 
toothpick  into  a  piece  of  fruit  and  the  other  into  the  mound  of  crushed  ice.  Continue 
until  the  ice  is  all  covered  with  fruit.  Refrigerate  until  ready  to  serve.  Thoroughly  chill 
but  do  not  freeze  fruit.    Serve  as  a  dessert  with  a  heavy  meal. 

French  Dressing 

1/3  cup  vinegar  or  lemon  juice  1   teaspoon  paprika 

1   cup  salad  or  olive  oil  1  teaspoon  sugar,  if  desired 

%    teaspoon  pepper  few  grains  cayenne 

Combine  all  ingredients.  Shake  or  beat  until  thoroughly  combined.     Chill. 

Page  108 


SALADS  FOR  HEALTH  AND  BEAUTY  109 

Fruit  French  Dressing 

%   cup  orange  juice  XA    cup  salad  or  olive  oil 

!4   cup  pineapple  juice  lA   teaspoon  salt 

2  tablespoons  lemon  juice  1  teaspoon  sugar 

Combine  all  ingredients.    Beat  or  shake  until  well  blended. 

Pineapple  Dressing 

lA    cup  sugar  1  Vi    cups  pineapple  juice,  or  combination 
2  tablespoons  cornstarch  of  orange  and  pineapple 

dash  celery  salt  4       egg  yolks,  slightly  beaten 
!4    teaspoon  salt  %    cup  lemon  juice 

Mix  dry  ingredients  in  the  top  of  a  double  boiler.  Stir  in  the  pineapple  juice. 
Cook  over  boiling  water,  stirring  constantly  until  mixture  thickens.  Cover  and  cook  for 
10  minutes,  stirring  occasionally. 

Stir  a  little  of  the  hot  mixture  into  slightly  beaten  egg  yolks.  Add  to  remaining 
hot  mixture.  Cook  over  hot  water,  stirring  constantly  for  3  minutes.  Stir  in  lemon 
juice.    Chill. 

When  the  dressing  is  cool,  fold  in  1  cup  of  heavy  cream,  whipped. 


■  m  ■ 


LPra trie    vUi n ter 

Grace  Barker  Wilson 

All  night  long,  under  frozen  sky 
With  never  a  hint  of  stars  or  moon, 
The  prairie  lay  like  a  dragon  fly 
Wrapped  in  an  eiderdown  cocoon. 

No  wind  ruffled  the  icy  air 
Nor  stirred  a  flake  of  the  falling  snow; 
Not  even  a  track  of  wild  thing  there 
To  mar  the  quietness  below. 

With  ashen  face  the  morning  came, 
But  no  sun  pierced  the  overcast, 
While  winter's  undisputed  claim 
Held  all  the  prairie  frozen  fast. 


1 1 lart/   iulanchard   vl/illtams   ^Decorates   L^akes 

A^ARY  Blanchard  Williams,  St.  Anthony,  Idaho,  has  developed  a  hobby  which 
•*•  *  makes  use  of  her  artistic  abilities  and,  at  the  same  time,  proves  to  be  useful  and 
challenging.  She  is  especially  skillful  in  making  ornately  decorated  cakes  for  special 
occasions.  The  cake  which  she  made  for  the  nith  birthday  anniversary  of  Relief  So- 
ciety was  a  masterpiece  of  graceful  scrolls  and  leaf  and  flower  designs,  bearing  the  mot- 
to: "Charity  Never  Faileth."  Mrs.  Williams  has  found  that  a  cake  made  especially 
for  an  important  occasion  makes  that  occasion  even  more  important  in  the  memories 
of  people  who  are  eager  to  cherish  the  happening  of  a  birthday  celebration,  a  wed- 
ding, or  a  wedding  anniversary,  or  the  delights  of  a  holiday. 

Mrs.  Williams,  as  a  young  woman,  was  left  a  widow  with  six  children  and  a  farm. 
With  the  help  of  her  boys,  she  managed  the  farm,  and  with  great  success  she  reared 
her  children  and  educated  them.  Later,  she  married  again,  and  by  this  marriage  be- 
came mother  to  eight  stepchildren.  She  has  shared  with  her  large  family  the  experi- 
ences of  missions,  college  education,  friendships,  and  the  deep  joy  of  seeing  children 
mature  into  useful  and  happy  citizens  and  devoted  members  of  the  Church.  More- 
over, she  has  found  time  for  much  Church  work,  including  eight  years  as  a  Primary 
president,  ward  organist  and  ward  chorister  for  many  years,  and  for  five  years  she  served 
as  president  of  Yellowstone  Stake  Relief  Society.  In  her  happy,  busy  life,  Mrs.  Williams 
exemplifies  the  old  saying:  "If  you  want  something  done  well,  ask  a  busy  person 
to  do  it." 


Page  110 


cJtrne 

Mabel  Jones  Gabbott 

Time  is  a  fleet  winged  chariot  whose  wheels 
Trace  on  one's  face  for  all  the  world  to  see 
Unspoken  thoughts,  and  words,  and  all  one  feels, 
In  fretful  lines  or  smooth  serenity. 


Hermanas 

Chapter  8  (Conclusion) 
Fav  Tarlock 


JIM'S  face  softened.  "If  I  had 
my  way,"  he  said  in  a  half 
whisper  to  Graciela,  "I'd  take 
you  to  Salt  Lake  to  see  the  golden 
angel  on  the  temple,  but  that  will 
have  to  wait  a  while.  Anyway/'  he 
gave  her  a  little  hug,  "we  have  first 
to  see  that  you  are  prepared  for  bap- 
tism." 

"The  baptism,  we  are  ready  for 
that,"  Graciela  told  him  eagerly,  her 
face  alight. 

"No,"  Jim  still  held  her,  "it  is 
too  important  a  step  to  be  done 
emotionally.  It  is  forever,  and  I 
want  you  to  be  sure  you  know  what 
you  are  doing." 

I  watched  Graciela  withdraw 
from  his  arms  and  firm  herself  to 
oppose  him.  "If  we  do  things  with- 
out emotion,  we  are  cold,  useless 
things."  Her  voice  rose  a  little. 
"My  mother  and  I  have  had  two 
years  to  know  the  Church,  and  in 
this  I  tell  you  the  sacred  truth,  I 
was  ready  before  I  met  you.  My 
mother  will  tell  you  that."  She 
stood  there,  an  exquisite  figurine, 
but  there  was  strength  and  decision 
in  her. 

When  Lolita  spoke  her  agree- 
ment, Jim  demurred  no  more. 

"But  there  is,"  Jim  said,  his  hands 
thoughtfully  in  his  pockets,  "an 
old  Spanish  custom  that  bothers 
me." 

"Meaning  what?"  I  spoke  to  him 
in  English,  and  he  answered  me  in 
kind. 

"It's  hard  to  explain  it,  but  I 
guess  it's  the  whole  thing,  the  big 


wedding  with  all  the  fuss.  I  like 
privacy  and  simpleness.  Once  we 
started  the  thing,  we'd  follow  tra- 
dition and  go  the  whole  way,  the 
full  three  days.  And  you  know  how 
it  is."  He  looked  like  a  small  boy 
caught  in  a  transgression.  "The 
bridegroom  has  to  furnish  every- 
thing, the  wedding  clothes,  the 
feast.  It  would  take  all  I've  been 
saving  to  equip  my  office  when  I'm 
ready  for  practice.  But  all  that 
aside,  I'd  like  nothing  better  than 
a  quiet  ceremony  in  your  garden, 
with  your  permission  of  course,  and 
El  Presidents  officiating." 

He  looked  first  at  Graciela,  then 
at  her  mother,  and  back  to  the  girl. 
"Couldn't  we  do  that,  no  fuss,  no 
feathers,  no  band,  just  a  marriage?" 

Ardently  Graciela  translated  for 
her  mother.  "Couldn't  we,"  she 
ended  in  a  plea,  "be  married  here 
in  the  garden  by  El  Presidents? 
Jaime  says  it  is  an  American  custom 
to  have  simple  weddings,  and  we 
should  consider  his  wishes." 

"I  have  heard  of  these  simple 
American  weddings,"  Lolita  replied, 
all  scorn.  "Three  minutes  to  be 
married  and  not  much  longer  to  be 
divorced.  I  have  but  one  daughter, 
and  I  want  her  to  have  a  wedding 
to  remember  all  her  life  with  pride. 
If  you,"  she  turned  to  Jim,  "are  sin- 
cere in  your  wishes  to  live  here,  you 
will  respect  our  traditions." 

"What  can  I  say  to  that?"  Jim 
grinned  at  me.  "Everything  seems 
to  be  turning  out  all  right.     I'll  go 

Page  111 


112 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


along  with  anything  except  a  three- 
day  fiesta." 

"You're  in  capable  hands,"  I  told 
him.  "You  get  back  to  the  hospital 
and  don't  worry  about  a  thing." 

With  Jim  in  proud  possession,  I 
bade  them  goodnight.  Lolita's  bow 
was  formal  as  to  a  mistress,  and  I 
was  troubled,  for  we  should  be 
friends. 

HPHAT  night  may  not  have  been 
the  exact  moment  when  the 
idea  began  fermenting  in  my  mind, 
but  the  germ  of  it  was  there  when 
I  awoke  the  next  morning,  refreshed 
from  the  first  sound  sleep  in  a  week. 

I  told  Amporo  to  get  breakfast 
for  the  children  while  I  went  to 
market.  It  was  so  early  that,  save 
for  an  occasional  maid  sweeping  the 
sidewalk,  only  the  rag  pickers  were 
on  the  streets,  eager  to  get  first 
chance  at  the  storm's  debris.  Over- 
head the  sun  moved  in  a  washed 
sky,  and  the  breeze  was  light  and 
warm. 

In  the  market  a  few  customers 
were  about,  cooks  who  had  risen 
early  and  a  few  energetic  house- 
wives. I  found  Roberto  alone  at 
his  stall,  arranging  a  pyramid  of 
oranges.  After  my  compliment  on 
his  design,  he  selected  a  few  limes, 
a  small  papaya,  and  a  kilo  of  banan- 
as for  me.  All  the  while  I  kept  the 
conversation  on  one  theme,  that  of 
the  friendly,  helpful  Church  people 
who  made  me  feel  so  at  home  in 
Mexico. 

"Si,"  Roberto  beamed,  holding 
the  bananas  for  my  inspection.  "The 
Church  makes  us  one  indeed." 
Graciously  he  inquired  if  my  little 
protege  and  her  mother  were  ready 
for  membership,  though  of  late  he 


had  been  saddened  because  of  their 
absence  at  the  Sunday  service. 

He  would  soon  be  happy,  I  told 
him.  Lolita  and  her  daughter 
would  probably  be  at  the  service 
next  Sunday.  "Graciela  and  the 
young  doctor— to  be,"  I  said  as  if 
it  were  an  afterthought,  "are  to  be 
married." 

"No  me  digosr  Roberto  pushed 
over  the  pyramid  of  oranges  in  his 
excitement.  "Esas  son  de  veras 
buenos  nuevosf  Over  the  tumbled 
fruit  he  leaned,  his  face  close  to 
mine,  exclaiming,  "When  will  wed- 
ding be?" 

By  now  Jorgina,  his  wife,  who 
presided  over  a  nearby  stall  of  fruit, 
rushed  over  to  hear  the  news. 

Absentmindedly  I  pushed  the 
oranges  towards  Jorgina,  who 
stacked  them  with  expert  brown 
fingers.  "It  presents  a  little  prob- 
lem," I  mused,  eyes  on  the  oranges. 
"It  is  the  wish  of  the  doctor  to  have 
a  simple  ceremony  at  my  home  with 
only  the  immediate  families  present. 
The  doctor  would  find  it  difficult  to 
provide  for  the  Mexican  wedding 
with  the  feast  and  the  bridal  finery. 
He  also  likes  quiet  weddings."  I 
rolled  the  last  orange  into  Jorgina's 
hand. 

"It  would  be  a  pity  to  deprive 
their  friends  of  the  pleasure  of  the 
wedding,"  Roberto  said,  signaling 
the  curious  Jorgina  to  attend  to  a 
customer.  "La  Senora  Lolita,  what 
are  her  wishes?"  He  leaned  close 
to  my  ear. 

"Oh,"  I  said,  lowering  my  voice 
to  meet  his  whisper,  "you  know 
women,  Don  Roberto." 

Signifying  with  a  humorous  smile 
that  he  did,  he  led  me  aside,  the 
papaya  display  shielding  us  from  the 


HERMANAS 


113 


customers.  "Ay,  Senora,"  he  sighed 
with  an  elaborate  wink,  ''I  do  in- 
deed know  women.  But  in  this  in- 
stance it  is  my  opinion  that  la  Se- 
nora  Lolita  has  good  reason." 

"With  that  I  agree."  I  set  down 
my  basket,  heavy  with  fruit.  "Yet 
you  must  look  at  the  young  doctor's 
side.  He  feels  that  any  money  spent 
must  go  to  fix  up  the  old  house  at 
San  Angel,  since  Lolita  insists  that 
they  live  there,  and  he  insists  that 
the  place  is  not  a  fit  habitation  for 
them.  This,"  I  whispered  discreetly, 
"is  for  your  ears  alone,  Don  Rober- 
to. For  a  time  it  looked  as  if  the 
San  Angel  house  would  prevent  the 
marriage." 

"Que  lastima/"  He  wiped  his 
hands  on  his  stained  apron.  I  could 
see  the  idea  growing  in  him.  Proud- 
ly he  raised  his  head  and  smoothed 
his  black  mustache  with  a  con- 
fident hand.  "If  you  would  be  so 
good  as  to  give  me  a  little  time  I 
think  a  way  can  be  found  to  meet 
Lolita's  wishes  and,  at  the  same 
time,  satisfy  the  good  doctor." 

"You  amaze  me,"  I  said  in  ad- 
miration, "but  I  leave  it  in  your 
hands." 

With  a  lordly  gesture  he  lifted 
my  basket  and  summoned  a  market 
boy  to  carry  it. 

"The  marriage  is  to  be  very  soon," 
I  confided,  holding  a  finger  on  the 
basket  to  detain  the  boy.  "What- 
ever you  do  must  be  quickly  exe- 
cuted." 

"You  spoke  this  morning  of  the 
co-operation  of  the  brothers  and  sis- 
ters in  the  Church.  Perhaps  you 
will  see  something  new."  He  put 
out  his  hand. 

"Remember  you  may  call  on  me 
for  anything   that   is   practical   for 


me  to  do."     I  shook  his  hand  and 
signaled  the  boy  to  go. 

"For  a  little  of  the  material 
things,  Senora,  we  may  call  on  you, 
but  the  work  we  will  do  entirely." 

T  ESS  than  three  weeks'  time 
passed  before  the  wedding,  pre- 
ceded, a  few  nights  before,  by  the 
baptism  of  the  two  women.  The 
marriage  ceremony,  at  Lolita's  re- 
quest, was  held  in  the  garden  of  the 
old  San  Angel  home. 

After  a  few  preliminary  skirmish- 
es with  Roberto,  I  was  not  consult- 
ed. "You  are  to  be  surprised,"  he 
told  me  mysteriously.  "I  am  work- 
ing with  the  missionaries." 

The  Relief  Society  women  were 
directly  responsible  for  the  feast. 
My  assignment  was  the  wedding 
cake.  It  took  Amporo  and  me  a 
full  day  to  buy,  beg,  and  borrow  the 
proper  pans  to  make  the  big  three- 
tiered  cake  —  and  all  my  raisins  and 
nuts.  Amporo  dressed  the  minia- 
ture bride  and  groom  and  placed 
them  under  the  silver  bell  I  loaned 
for  the  occasion. 

Oddly  I  felt  a  little  left  out.  Jim 
telephoned  me  only  once.  "I'm  get- 
ting the  afternoon  off  to  spend  with 
my  future  mother-in-law." 

"To  do  what?"  I  was  mystified. 

"To  observe  an  old  Spanish,  cus- 
tom." He  took  delight  in  teasing 
me. 

"I  hope  you're  not  going  to  do 
anything  foolish." 

After  all,  the  wedding  was  only 
the  beginning.  The  future  should 
not  be  mortgaged  for  it. 

"We're  spending  our  money  in 
the  meicado  —  the  one  you  fre- 
quent —  so  judge  for  yourself."  And 


114 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


I  had  to  be  satisfied  with  that 
evasive  answer. 

Graciela  came  once  for  dinner. 
All  she  would  tell  me  was  that  the 
Relief  Society  women  were  helping 
her  mother  make  the  wedding  dress, 
rather  wedding  dresses,  for  Lolita 
was  to  have  a  new  one. 

I  don't  like  mysteries  and  there 
was  a  dark  spot  in  my  mind  that 
said  Lolita  still  resented  me.  She 
had  not  even  told  me  of  her  inter- 
view with  Miguel  Munoz,  whose 
early  return  was  heralded  in  the 
dailies. 

Late  afternoon  of  the  wedding 
day,  John  and  I  dressed  in  our  best 
suits,  and  with  the  Senora  de  Vargas 
as  our  guest,  rode  to  San  Angel. 
The  twins  were  with  Esperanza, 
who  had  a  tooth  extracted  earlier  in 
the  day  and  was  in  no  mood  for  a 
fiesta  that  would  last  late  into  the 
night. 

On  this  day  of  autumn  the  rain 
came  early,  staying  only  long 
enough  to  polish  the  shrubbery  and 
splash  the  pavement  clean.  Over- 
head was  an  opalescent  sky  and  the 
air  was  cool  and  sweet.  We  were 
in  a  gay  mood  as  we  rode  past 
Obregon's  monument  and  the  su- 
burban villas  onto  the  rough  streets 
of  the  old  part  of  San  Angel. 

John's  hand  had  no  sooner  found 
the  bell,  than  the  gate  in  the  high 
wall  swung  open,  and  the  happy 
confusion  of  the  party  spilled  out 
to  meet  us.  The  laughter  of  a  hun- 
dred people  was  mingled  with  the 
strum  of  guitars  and  the  higher 
notes  of  the  marimba. 

Before  I  got  past  the  entrance, 
Amporo,  wearing  a  new  pink  dress, 
her  hair  oiled  and  coiled,  and  her 
feet  uneasy  in  high  heels,  pulled  at 


my  arm.  "Come  quickly,  Senora," 
she  trilled,  "it  is  almost  time  for 
the  ceremony,  but  Roberto  says  you 
are  to  see  it  first." 

\\7ITH  no  time  for  a  "con  permis- 
so,"  I  followed  her  through 
the  shaded  hallway  into  the  main 
house  where  the  newlvweds  would 
live.  "See!"  She  opened  the  heavy 
door  with  a  flourish.  "Es  marvel- 
leso,  no?" 

It  was  indeed  marvelous.  The 
long  room  with  the  windows  over- 
looking the  gallery  and  garden  had 
been  made  into  a  living  room.  New 
boards  replaced  the  rotted  wood, 
and  over  its  newly  painted  surface 
was  a  collection  of  bright  serapes 
from  Pueblo.  A  combined  book- 
case and  table,  so  new  that  I  could 
still  smell  the  fresh  wood,  was  dec- 
orated with  multi-hued  flowers. 

"Jorge,  the  carpenter,  made  it  for 
a  wedding  gift,  but  the  other  things 
are  from  the  Mormones,"  Amporo 
told  me,  awed  at  the  generosity. 

The  room  had  two  comfortable 
chairs  made  of  cowhide  and  a  num- 
ber of  cane-bottomed  chairs,  bright 
with  paint.  I  recognized  the  other 
piece  of  furniture.  It  was  a  couch 
Senora  de  Vargas  and  I  had  found 
in  her  attic.  The  cover  was  one  of 
native  sheets  of  heavy  muslin,  which 
Amporo  had  dyed  and  embroidered 
with  vivid  flowers. 

"There  is  time  for  only  a 
glimpse,"  Amporo  reminded  me, 
dancing  with  excitement.  "You 
must  see  the  wonders  of  the  kitch- 
en." 

In  my  heart  I  had  sympathized 
with  Jim.  It  was  an  impossibility 
to  live  in  this  kitchen,  so  little 
changed  from  colonial  times.    The 


HERMANAS 


115 


brick  stove  needed  the  attention  of 
two  stokers,  and  the  cavernous  sink, 
with  its  trickle  of  cold  water  was 
high  enough  to  break  a  woman's 
back.  I  thought  of  the  dirty  cob- 
webbed  walls,  the  lack  of  cupboards. 

When  Amporo  swung  open  the 
planked  door  I  saw  a  high-ceilinged 
room  freshly  whitewashed,  the  high 
windows  sparkling  and  framed  by 
freehand  drawings  of  fruit  and  flow- 
ers. The  ancient  brick  ovens  were 
covered  by  a  dark  blue  cloth  and 
brightened  by  a  basket  of  golden 
mangos. 

When  my  eyes  had  taken  in  this 
splendor,  I  saw  something  that  was 
akin  to  a  miracle,  a  shining  table 
top,  enameled  electric  range,  so  new 
that  it  sang.  In  the  States  at  this 
wartime,  a  new  electric  range  was  as 
unobtainable  as  the  moon.  Here  in 
Mexico  it  was  the  possession  of  the 
rich.  When  I  stopped  to  examine 
the  flower-splayed  card  tied  to  the 
oven  handle,  I  saw  "Congratula- 
tions" written  in  the  firm  hand  of 
Miguel  Munoz! 

"Look!"  Amporo  threw  open  a 
closet  door  to  show  me  an  electric 
water  heater,  dazzling  in  its  new- 
ness.   "Also  the  gift  of  the  Senor." 

Surprise  was  hardly  the  word  for 
my  reactions.  I  had  not  thought 
him  capable  of  sportsmanship  in  the 
grand  manner.  After  this  I  could 
think  pleasant  thoughts  of  the 
Senor. 

"But  the  wiring?  The  house 
needed  to  be  wired  for  the  stove?" 

"It  was  another  of  the  Mormones, 
a  man  who  is  an  electrician  who 
came  with  his  helper  and  put  all 
new  wires  in  the  house.  Now,"  Am- 
poro was  brisk,  "there  is  but  time 
to  see  the  bathroom  and  the  bed- 


room of  Lolita." 

The  bathroom  I  looked  at  only 
long  enough  to  see  that  some  mod- 
ern fixtures  with  a  banker's  card  had 
been  installed,  and  the  broken  tile 
repaired.  Lolita's  room  was  a  simple 
one,  far  from  the  street  wall,  and 
had  a  dressing  table  concocted  by 
Jorge,  the  carpenter,  and  a  long 
chest  that  must  have  been  in  the 
old  house.  I  took  time  to  sit  on 
the  bed.  The  mattress  was  new, 
one  made  of  innersprings. 

"El  doctor  himself  gave  the  bed 
to  Lolita,"  Amporo  explained,  her 
fingers  tracing  the  design  in  the  blue 
and  white  spread. 

So  Lolita  had  her  soft  bed. 

"pROM  the  kitchen  we  hurried  to 
the  gallery  to  see  the  wedding 
feast.  The  late  afternoon  sun  shone 
through  the  poplars  against  the  con- 
vent wall  and  threw  a  light  around 
the  bell  in  the  tower.  Golden  shafts 
slanted  across  the  garden,  freshly 
trimmed  and  weeded,  and  rested 
upon  the  deep  green  of  the  pome- 
granates. The  rays  filtered  through 
the  Poinsettia  trees  and  over  the 
Burmese  honeysuckle  that  separated 
Ramon's  rows  of  beans  from  the 
garden.  On  the  lawn,  still  shaggy 
from  neglect,  were  the  lovely  red 
day  lilies,  open  these  last  days  of 
the  rain. 

Last  of  all,  the  westering  rays 
lighted  the  wedding  feast  that  lay 
like  a  vast  mural  against  the  green 
background  of  the  garden.  There 
were  stacks  of  tortillas,  warm  in 
blue  and  green  napkins;  terra  cotta 
trays  piled  with  dark  green  chili 
xellanos;  braziers  holding  steaming 
pots  of  fri/oJes,  fragrant  with  hot 
sauce  and  oregano;  a  copper  caul- 


116 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


dron  filled  with  camitas;  dishes  of 
chicken  mole  brimming  with  dark 
sauce;  deep  pans  of  cabrito  el  homo, 
and  bright  dishes  of  sharp-tasting 
guacamole;  colorful  baskets  spilling 
with  the  fruits  of  Mexico  —  man- 
goes, golden  ripe,  papaya  ready  for 
their  baths  of  lime  juice,  sticks  of 
freshly  cut  pineapple,  slices  of  the 
pink  mammea,  and  rosy  strawber- 
ries, small  and  fragrant. 

In  the  very  center  was  the  wed- 
ding cake  on  a  bank  of  flowers,  and 
scattered  about  were  the  lacy  bask- 
ets of  sweet  rolls  and  the  glazed 
pastilles.  In  the  background  were 
the  gayly  designed  pitchers,  full  to 
the  brim  with  limonade,  and  the 
exotic  drink  of  mango  juice.  So 
colorful  was  the  feast  that  it  seemed 
a  desecration  to  touch  it. 

Against  the  flaming  bougain- 
villaea and  blue  plumbago  that 
shaded  the  south  gallery,  the  wed- 
ding guests  waited  in  the  shimmer- 
ing light,  ready  for  the  feast  that 
would  begin  as  soon  as  El  Presi- 
dente  pronounced  the  words  —  and 
the  bride  kissed  within  an  inch  of 
her  life.  I  saw  among  the  expectant 
group  the  bright  blouses  and  shirts 
of  the  country  people,  splashes  of 
accent  for  the  dark  garb  of  the  city 
guests.  To  one  side,  half  lost  in 
the  green  shade,  were  a  group  of 
young  persons  dressed  in  green  and 
white  with  sequin  trimmings.  They 
carried  silver-trimmed  sombreros 
and  crimson  serapes  for  the  grace- 
ful jarabe  tapatio  to  come  later  in 
the  evening. 

In  the  far  background  against  the 
plum  trees  were  the  musicians, 
shepherded  by  the  proud  Roberto, 
their  instruments  hushed  but  them- 
selves  poised    for    the    signal   that 


would  start  the  festivity.  All  of  a 
sudden,  a  wave  of  something  that 
was  more  than  exhilaration  pos- 
sessed me.  It  was  a  disembodied 
elation  that  seemed  to  lift  and  hold 
me  above  the  garden  with  its  riot 
of  color  and  emotion.  This,  my 
heart  said,  is  home.  Tonight  you 
will  be  happy  with  your  people. 

My  husband's  beckoning  eye, 
Amporo's  quick  tug,  made  me  rea- 
lize that  the  ceremony  waited  for 
my  presence  beside  Lolita.  My  feet 
quickened  on  the  damp  grass,  and 
I  saw  El  Presidente,  benevolent  and 
towering  in  his  black  broadcloth 
and  snowy  linen,  urging  me  for- 
ward. Waiting  outside  in  a  bower 
of  autumn  flowers  stood  Jim  and 
Graciela.  Jim  was  smiling  and  con- 
fident in  his  white  jacket,  but  it 
was  Graciela,  petite  and  radiant, 
who  drew  all  eyes. 

Jim's  almost  imperceptible  wink 
brought  my  gaze  to  the  bridal  dress. 
It  was  a  simple  one,  white,  and 
fashioned  after  the  native  style,  with 
a  long  swirling  skirt  and  full  blouse, 
embroidered  in  bright  bands  of 
cross-stitch.  On  the  girl's  slen- 
der feet  were  thonged  sandals,  and 
her  blue-black  hair  was  brushed  in- 
to a  shining  pompadour  in  which 
she  wore  a  single  red  Camellia. 

Jim's  eyes  took  me  from  the  bride 
to  her  mother.  Lolita  stood  to  one 
side,  her  graying  hair  coiled  at  her 
neck,  her  black  eyes  wet  with  happy 
tears.  Like  Graciela's,  her  dress  ma- 
terial had  been  purchased  by  Jim 
in  the  market  and  made  with  the 
loving  hands  of  the  Church  women. 
It  was  deep  blue,  with  a  full  skirt 
and  embroidered  in  red  and  green 
flowers.  On  her  arm  she  carried  a 
long  white  scarf  with  a  band  of  in- 


HERMANAS 


117 


tricately  woven  flowers.  Later,  when 
the  evening  wind  blew  cold  from 
the  snow-topped  mountains,  she 
would  place  it  on  her  child's  shoul- 
ders. 

Quickly  I  advanced  towards  Lo- 
lita,  my  hand  outstretched.  Would 
she  greet  me  with  a  courteous  bend 
of  her  head  and  a  respectful  "Se- 
nora,"    or    would    her    eyes    look 


straight  into  mine?  So  near  was  I 
that  the  hem  of  my  tailored  suit 
touched  the  crisp  folds  of  her  blue 
gown;  yet  I  did  not  know  the  an- 
swer. But,  as  our  hands  touched, 
her  fingers  were  firm  in  mine,  and 
she  raised  her  eyes.  With  a  warm 
smile,  her  hands  pressed  tightly  over 
mine,  and  she  said,  "Bien  venida, 
muy  Hermana." 


one  t«wct\.» 


lllirnature  Lrlants 

Elizabeth.  Williamson 

"V/flNIATURE  plants  are  not  a  new  idea.  The  Japanese  and  the  Chinese  thought  of 
-*■  *  them  centuries  ago.  However,  the  charm  of  these  tiny  plants  and  containers  con- 
tinues to  please  us,  and  their  uses  are  many.  They  always  delight  anyone  who  creates 
them  or  anyone  who  receives  them  as  a  gift.  Keep  on  hand  very  small  containers  and 
the  smallest  of  flower  pots,  and  when  you  are  transplanting  or  making  slips,  put  the 
smallest  ones  in  the  containers.  Rock  plants  and  succulents  seem  to  adapt  themselves 
best  to  miniature  planting.  Enliven  the  pots  with  tiny  colorful  figurines  which  you 
may  pick  up  from  time  to  time.  These  miniature  plants  make  charming  gifts  and  will 
be  joyfully  received. 


From  The  Field 


Margaret  C.  Pickering,  General  Secretary -Treasurer 

All  material  submitted  for  publication  in  this  department  should  be  sent  through 
stake  and  mission  Relief  Society  presidents.  See  regulations  governing  the  submittal 
of  material  for  "Notes  From  the  Field"  in  the  Magazine  for  April  1950,  page  278,  and 
the  Handbook  of  Instructions,  page  123. 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  ACTIVITIES 


Photograph  submitted  by  Florence  O.  Gillman 


TIMPANOGOS  STAKE    (UTAH),  PLEASANT  GROVE  FOURTH  WARD 

BAZAAR,  October  6,  1955 

Standing,  left  to  right:  President  Alice  T.  Judd;  work  meeting  leader  Fern  M. 
Hicks;  First  Counselor  Beth  Hall;  Second  Counselor  Vida  F.  Conway. 

This  ward  reports  a  most  successful  bazaar:  "Our  bazaar  consisted  of  rugs  made 
by  the  Deseret  Industries,  quilts,  embroidered  and  painted  pillow  cases  and  tea  towels, 
dolls  made  from  men's  hose;  also  monkeys,  hassocks  made  from  juice  cans,  baskets  made 
from  reeds,  planter  boxes  made  from  cans  and  paper  mache,  aprons,  children's  clothing, 
homemade  soap,  hand-painted  ceramics,  sofa  cushions,  crocheted  handkerchiefs  and 
other  crocheted  novelties,  including  plates  with  crocheting  around  them.  We  also  had 
a  bake  sale  and  featured  homemade  candy.  Dinner  was  served  while  the  bazaar  was  in 
progress.    All  of  the  sisters  in  the  ward  worked  diligently  to  make  our  bazaar  a  success." 

Florence  O.  Gillman  is  president  of  Timpanogos  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Page  118 


NOTES  FROM  THE  FIELD 


119 


Photograph  submitted  by  Ruth  M.  Pell 

SANTA  ROSA  STAKE  (CALIFORNIA)  SINGING  MOTHERS  FURNISH  MUSIC 
FOR  STAKE  QUARTERLY  CONFERENCE 

Stake  chorister  Jean  Porter,  stands  second  from  the  left  in  the  back  row;  stake 
organist  Katherine  Davis  is  seated  at  the  right  end  of  the  second  row.  Sister  Davis  has 
been  released  because  of  ill  health  since  this  picture  was  taken.  Sister  Eunice  South  wick 
the  new  organist,  is  not  in  the  picture. 

Ruth  M.  Pell  is  president  of  Santa  Rosa  Stake  Relief  Society. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Helen  B.  Walker 

POCATELLO   STAKE    (IDAHO),    POCATELLO    FOURTEENTH    WARD 

VISITING  TEACHERS  ASSEMBLED  AFTER  ATTENDING  A  LUNCHEON 

IN  THEIR  HONOR,  September  22,  1955 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Dorothy  Harris;  Pearl  Cook;  Emily  Cameron;  Pearl 
Gravatt;  Cora  Norton;  Josephine  Shipp;  Phoebe  Derricott;  Chloe  Bailey;  Delia  Tucker; 
Lillian  Day;  Janice  Romney  and  baby. 

Second  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Leona  Spillman;  Mae  McLaws;  Edith  Bell; 
Louise  Koho;  Grace  Thomas;  Ida  Francom;  Anne  George,  Secretary-Treasurer;  Margaret 
Bartley,  First  Counselor;  Bena  Willes,  President;  Ruth  Noble,  Second  Counselor;  LaRue 
Cook;  Helen  B.  Walker,  President,  Pocatello  Stake  Relief  Society;  Agnes  Wheatley, 
First  Counselor,  Pocatello  Stake  Relief  Society;  Florence  Wright;  Louise  Decker. 

This  special  luncheon  was  held  in  honor  of  the  visiting  teachers  who  have  had  a 
one-hundred  per  cent  record  for  nine  years,  or  ever  since  the  Fourteenth  Ward  was 
organized  from  the  Second  Ward  in  1946. 


120 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


Photograph  submitted  by  Laura  M.  Wilkin 

OQUIRRH  STAKE  (UTAH),  PLEASANT  GREEN  SECOND  WARD  VISITING 
TEACHERS  WHO  HAVE  ACHIEVED  A  ONE  HUNDRED  PER  CENT 

RECORD  FOR  THREE  YEARS 

Front  row,  left  to  right:  Areta  Loutensock;  Eleanor  Whittaker;  Louella  Wall;  La- 
vinia  Bullock;  lone  Ashton;  Reva  Keetch,  First  Counselor;  Violet  Powell,  President; 
Clara  Silcox,  Second  Counselor;  Josephine  Thomas;  Delilah  Pendleton;  Ireta  Arave; 
Dorothy  Evans;  Isabelle  Spiers;  Alice  Warr;  La  Veda  Shurtleff;  Mildred  Lindberg,  Secre- 
tary. 

Second  row,  left  to  right:  Dorothy  Smith;  Annie  Fyfe;  Helen  Duckworth;  Ruth 
Coon;  Reva  Brown;  Lorraine  Elkins;  Alice  Carter;  Velva  Duckworth;  Ella  Burrell;  Ed- 
nal  Daybell;  Mabel  Poulsen;  Mabel  Martin;  Lucile  Simpson. 

Third  row,  left  to  right:  Zelma  Hales;  Asenath  Chipman;  Vervene  Shaw;  Beverley 
Carter;  Beatrice  Redmond;  Gladys  Robison;  Maxine  Crapo;  Mary  Westerman;  Annie 
Nelson;  Laura  M.  Wilkin,  President,  Oquirrh  Stake  Relief  Society;  Hazel  Call;  Cecil 
Mills;  Winnifred  Metcalf;  Minnie  Mills;  Myrtle  Russon;  Evelyn  Cook. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Laura  Beckstrand 

MILLARD  STAKE    (UTAH)    SINGING  MOTHERS  FURNISH  MUSIC  FOR 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  CONVENTION  AND  FOR  STAKE  OUARTERLY 

CONFERENCE,  October  1955 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:    Delores  Jones;  Lola  Stevens;  Jewel  Crosland;  Laura 


NOTES  FROM  THE  FIELD 


12 


Beckstrand,  President,  Millard  Stake  Relief  Society;  Merle  Hone,  director  of  the  Sing- 
ing Mothers;  Jo  Ann  Harmon,  accompanist;  Mary  Jean  Robison;  Winla  Whitaker. 

Second  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Lillian  Rogers,  chorister;  DeAun  Anderson;  Ann 
Adams;  Henrietta  Hunter;  Roma  Turner;  Beth  Stephenson;  Afton  Finlinson;  Gladys 
Warner;  Nelda  Paxton,  Stella  Day. 

Third  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Lottie  Anderson;  Luella  Mitchell;  Emily  Weed; 
Ruby  Iverson;  Iva  Howlett;  Helen  Stevens;  Ethel  Wood;  Nada  Melville;  Maxine  Row- 
ley; Algie  Stephenson. 

Fourth  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Sarah  Stringham;  Geneva  Jones;  Bly  Nixon; 
Alice  Robison;  Louie  Duncan;  Carol  Frampton;  Evelyn  Peterson;  Eva  Goulter. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Nilus  S.  Memmott 

JUAREZ  STAKE  (MEXICO),  DUBLAN  WARD  ANNIVERSARY  PARTY, 

March  17,  1955 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Carel  Wagner;  Agnes  Bluth;  Rhoda  Taylor,  First 
Counselor,  Juarez  Stake  Relief  Society;  Nilus  Memmott,  President,  Juarez  Stake  Relief 
Society;  LaVetta  Taylor,  Secretary,  Juarez  Stake  Relief  Society;  Theresa  Call;  Matilda 
Wagner;  Maria  Hardy. 

Second  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Cary  Robinson;  Thelma  Bluth;  Ella  Anderson; 
Hannah  Call,  First  Counselor,  Dublan  Ward  Relief  Society;  Bernice  Coon,  President, 
Dublan  Ward  Relief  Society;  Ruth  Longhurst,  Second  Counselor;  Marge  Alberta  Robin- 
son; Hannah  Vee  Jarvis;  Willa  Wagner;  Nita  Taylor;  Eloise  Spencer. 

Third  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Beulah  McNiel;  Leah  Robinson;  Leona  Wagner; 
Lucille  Taylor;  Glena  Call,  chorister;  Anna  Marie  Taylor;  Nell  Bowman;  LaRee  Bluth; 
Arietta  Taylor;  Naoma  Bowman;  Alleen  Bowman;  Emma  Pinon. 


■  m  ■ 


LKetrospect 

Anna  Rice 

For  many  months  long 
This  was  my  lament,  this  was  my  song, 
"Things  are  continually  going  all  wrong." 
Suddenly,  one  day  the  light  I  could  see, 
It  was  my  thoughts,  not  things,  which  were 
bothering  me. 


LESSON   DEPARTMENT 


oJheotogyi — Characters  and  Teaching! 
of  The  Book  of  Mormon 


Lesson  40— Christ  Among  the  Nephites 
Elder  Lehnd  H.  Monson 

(Text:  The  Book  of  Mormon:  3  Nephi,  chapters  11-14) 
For  Tuesday,  May  1,  1956 

Objective:  To  testify  to  the  appearance  to  the  Nephites  of  the  resurrected  Christ; 

and  to  comprehend  Christ's  teachings  on  baptism;  the  calling  of  the  Twelve  Disciples; 

and  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 

and  he  came  down  and  stood  in  the 
midst  of  them;  and  the  eyes  of  the  whole 
multitude    were    turned    upon    him,    and 


Appearance  of  Jesus  Christ 

After  the  cataclysm  which   they 
,      ,  .  ,       J  c  •  thev   durst  not  open   their  mouths,  even 

had  experienced,  a  group  of  surviv-     on/  to  another7  *nd  wist   not  what  it 

ors  was  gathered  around  the  temple      meant,  for  they  thought  it  was  an  angel 


in  the  land  Bountiful.  They  were 
conversing  about  the  changes  which 
had  taken  place  and  about  Jesus 
Christ  who  was  to  come.  Suddenly 
they  heard  a  voice,  but  they  did  not 
understand.  Three  times  they  heard 
it.  The  third  time  they  heard  it 
distinctly  saying,  ''Behold  my  Be- 
loved Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased,  in  whom  I  have  glorified 
my  name— hear  ye  him"  (3  Nephi 
11:7). 


that  had  appeared  unto  them.  And  it  came 
to  pass  that  he  stretched  forth  his  hand 
and  spake  unto  the  people,  saying:  Behold, 
I  am  Jesus  Christ,  whom  the  prophets 
testified  shall  come  into  the  world.  And 
behold,  I  am  the  light  and  the  life  of  the 
world;  and  I  have  drunk  out  of  that  bit- 
ter cup  which  the  Father  hath  given  me, 
and  have  glorified  the  Father  in  taking 
upon  me  the  sins  of  the  world,  in  the 
which  I  have  suffered  the  will  of  the 
Father  in  all  things  from  the  beginning 
(3  Nephi  11:8-11). 

The   people   were  so  astonished 


As    they   looked    toward   heaven  flmt  they  feU  tQ  the  earth  for  then 

tneY:  ".  .  .  they  remembered  that  it  had 

at     j        a-         *  «*  u~,«,  been  prophesied  among  them  that 

.  .  .  saw  a  Man  descending  out  ot  heav-  *™      r     r  b 

en;  and  he  was  clothed  in  a  white  robe;  Christ    should    show    himselt    UlltO 

Page  122 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 

them  after  his  ascension  into  heav- 
en" (3  Nephi  11:12). 

Jesus  spoke  to  them  again  saying: 

Arise  and  come  forth  unto  me,  that  ye 
may  thrust  your  hands  into  my  side,  and 
also  that  ye  may  feel  the  prints  of  the 
nails  in  my  hands  and  in  my  feet,  that  ye 
may  know  that  I  am  the  God  of  Israel, 
and  the  God  of  the  whole  earth,  and  have 
been  slain  for  the  sins  of  the  world  (3 
Nephi  11:14). 

And  when  they  had  all  gone  forth  and 
had  witnessed  for  themselves,  they  did  cry 
out  with  one  accord,  saying,  Hosanna! 
Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Most  High 
God!  And  they  did  fall  down  at  the  feet 
of  Jesus,  and  did  worship  him  (3  Nephi 
11:16-17). 

In  this  decisive  manner,  Jesus  af- 
firmed his  divinity,  and  by  means 
of  displaying  his  wounds  established 
beyond  doubt  that  he  was  Jesus  the 
Christ,  and  that  he  had  atoned  for 
the  sins  of  the  world. 

Twelve  Disciples  Chosen 

Singling  Nephi  out  of  the  multi- 
tude, Jesus  said  to  him,  "...  I  give 
unto  you  power  that  ye  shall  baptize 
this  people  when  I  am  again  ascend- 
ed into  heaven"  (3  Nephi  11:21). 
Eleven  others  were  endowed  with 
this  same  power.  ".  .  .  (now  the 
number  of  them  who  had  been 
called,  and  received  power  and 
authority  to  baptize,  was  twelve) 
.  .  ."  (3  Nephi  12:1).  Jesus  gave 
them  specific  words  to  be  used  in 
performing  the  ordinance  and  in- 
structed them  to  baptize  by  immer- 
sion. 

Verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  whoso  re- 
penteth  of  his  sins  through  your  words, 
and  desireth  to  be  baptized  in  my  name, 
on  this  wise  shall  ye  baptize  them — Be- 
hold, ye  shall  go  down  and  stand  in  the 
water,  and  in  my  name  shall  ye  baptize 
them. 


123 

And  now  behold,  these  are  the  words 
which  ye  shall  say,  calling  them  by  name, 
saying: 

Having  authority  given  me  of  Jesus 
Christ,  I  baptize  you  in  the  name  of  the 
Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.     Amen. 

And  then  shall  ye  immerse  them  in  the 
water,  and  come  forth  again  out  of  the 
water. 

And  after  this  manner  shall  ye  baptize 
in  my  name;  for  behold,  verily  I  say  unto 
you,  that  the  Father,  and  the  Son,  and 
the  Holy  Ghost  are  one;  and  I  am  in  the 
Father,  and  the  Father  in  me,  and  the 
Father  and  I  are  one. 

And  according  as  I  have  commanded 
you  thus  shall  ye  baptize.  And  there 
shall  be  no  disputations  among  you,  as 
there  have  hitherto  been;  neither  shall 
there  be  disputations  among  you  concern- 
ing the  points  of  my  doctrine,  as  there 
have  hitherto  been. 

For  verily,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  he  that 
hath  the  spirit  of  contention  is  not  of  me, 
but  is  of  the  devil,  who  is  the  father  of 
contention,  and  he  stirreth  up  the  hearts 
of  men  to  contend  with  anger,  one  with 
another  (3  Nephi  11:23-29). 

In  regard  to  baptism  the  Savior 
further  said: 

And  whoso  believeth  in  me,  and  is  bap- 
tized, the  same  shall  be  saved;  and  they 
are  they  who  shall  inherit  the  kingdom  of 
God. 

And  whoso  believeth  not  in  me,  and  is 
not  baptized,  shall  be  damned. 

Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  that  this 
is  my  doctrine,  and  I  bear  record  of  it 
from  the  Father;  and  whoso  believeth  in 
me  believeth  in  the  Father  also;  and  un- 
to him  will  the  Father  bear  record  of  me, 
for  he  will  visit  him  with  fire  and  with 
the  Holy  Ghost. 

And  thus  will  the  Father  bear  record 
of  me,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  will  bear  rec- 
ord unto  him  of  the  Father  and  me;  for 
the  Father,  and  I,  and  the  Holy  Ghost 
are  one. 


124 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


And  again  I  say  unto  you,  ye  must  re- 
pent, and  become  as  a  little  child,  and  be 
baptized  in  my  name,  or  ye  can  in  nowise 
receive  these  things. 

And  again  I  say  unto  you,  ye  must  re- 
pent, and  be  baptized  in  my  name,  and 
become  as  a  little  child,  or  ye  can  in  no- 
wise inherit  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  that  this 
is  my  doctrine,  and  whoso  buildeth  upon 
this  buildeth  upon  my  rock,  and  the  gates 
of  hell  shall  not  prevail  against  them. 

And  whoso  shall  declare  more  or  less 
than  this,  and  establish  it  for  my  doctrine, 
the  same  cometh  of  evil,  and  is  not  built 
upon  my  rock;  but  he  buildeth  upon  a 
sandy  foundation,  and  the  gates  of  hell 
stand  open  to  receive  such  when  the  floods 
come  and  the  winds  beat  upon  them. 

Therefore,  go  forth  unto  this  people, 
and  declare  the  words  which  I  have  spok- 
en, unto  the  ends  of  the  earth  (3  Nephi 
11:33-41). 

After  calling  the  Twelve  Disciples 
Jesus  instructed  the  people  ".  .  . 
Blessed  are  ye  if  ye  shall  give  heed 
unto  the  words  of  these  twelve 
whom  I  have  chosen  from  among 
you  to  minister  unto  you,  and  to 
be  your  servants  ..."  (3  Nephi 
12:1). 

After  instructing  the  people  that 
the  first  principles  and  ordinances 
of  the  gospel  were  prerequisites  to 
salvation,  and  following  his  empow- 
ering the  Twelve  Disciples  to  bap- 
tize the  people,  Jesus  turned  to  the 
multitude  and  gave  them  his  Ser- 
mon on  the  Mount,  substantially  as 
he  gave  it  on  the  Eastern  Hemi- 
sphere. 

The  Seimon  on  the  Mount  Retold 
This  Sermon  on  the  Mount  gives 
in  detail  the  Christian  pattern  of 
living.  This  pattern  is  needed  to- 
day perhaps  as  much  as  anything  in 


the  gospel,  for  we  have  learned 
many  things,  but  we  have  not  yet 
learned  how  to  live  the  more 
abundant  life. 

The  Beatitudes 

The  Beatitudes  represent  Jesus' 
blueprint  for  happiness  and  blessed- 
ness. ".  .  .  Blessed  are  the  poor  in 
spirit  ..."  (3  Nephi  12:3)  may 
mean  blessed  are  those  who  feel 
the  need  of  spiritual  direction  and 
come  to  Christ  for  help.  Pride, 
self-righteousness,  self-conceit  are 
condemned.  The  parable  of  the 
Pharisee  and  the  Publican  is  a  good 
commentary  on  this  beatitude. 
".  .  .  blessed  are  all  they  that  mourn, 
for  they  shall  be  comforted"  ( 3  Ne- 
phi 12:4)  has  been  interpreted  by 
James  E.  Talmage  as  follows: 

.  .  .  the  mourner  shall  be  comforted  for 
he  shall  see  the  divine  purpose  of  his 
grief,  and  shall  again  associate  with  the 
beloved  ones  of  whom  he  has  been  be- 
reft .  .  .  (Jesus  the  Christ,  page  231). 

The  meek,  in  the  beatitude 
".  .  .  blessed  are  the  meek  ..."  (3 
Nephi  12:5)  are  those  people  who 
refuse  to  answer  evil  with  evil, 
which  requires  real  strength  of 
character,  for  it  requires  restraint  of 
anger,  hatred,  and  revenge.  ".  .  . 
blessed  are  the  merciful  ..."  (3  Ne- 
phi 12:7)  reminds  us  that  God  will 
pardon  our  evil  deeds  in  proportion 
as  we  pardon  the  evils  others  do  to 
us.  He  who  shows  mercy  will  be 
judged  mercifully.  The  peacemakers 
are  blessed  because  they  bring  so 
much  to  others.  Peacemakers  pla- 
cate; they  bring  about  concord. 
They  reconcile  men  who  are  at  vari- 
ance with  one  another,  whether  as 
individuals,  classes,  or  nations. 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


125 


Instructions  to  the  Twelve  Disciples 
Jesus  then  speaks  of  the  responsi- 
bility and  dignity  of  the  ministry  of 
the  Twelve  Disciples.  He  empha- 
sizes it  with  the  following  ideas: 

Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  I  give 
unto  you  to  be  the  salt  of  the  earth;  but 
if  the  salt  shall  lose  its  savor  wherewith 
shall  the  earth  be  salted?  The  salt  shall 
be  thenceforth  good  for  nothing,  but  to 
be  cast  out  and  to  be  trodden  under  foot 
of  men.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you, 
I  give  unto  you  to  be  the  light  of  this 
people.  A  city  that  is  set  on  a  hill  cannot 
be  hid.  Behold,  do  men  light  a  candle 
and  put  it  under  a  bushel?  Nay,  but  on 
a  candlestick,  and  it  giveth  light  to  all 
that  are  in  the  house;  Therefore  let  your 
light  so  shine  before  this  people,  that 
they  may  see  your  good  works  and  glorify 
your  Father  who  is  in  heaven  (3  Nephi 
12:13-16). 

Christ,  the  Fulfillment  oi  the  Law 
When  Jesus  instructs  citizens  of 
his  kingdom  concerning  righteous- 
ness, he  frequently  contrasts  his 
teachings  with  those  current  in  the 
law  and  the  prophets,  indicating  in 
each  case  the  impressive  gulf  which 
divides  his  sublime  morality  from 
the  morality  of  the  law  and  the 
prophets.  The  old  law  punished 
only  the  act  of  murder,  but  the  law 
of  Christ  disapproves  of  the  emo- 
tion of  anger,  thus  working  for  a 
purification  of  the  heart,  a  schooling 
of  the  feelings.  The  old  law  pun- 
ished the  act  of  adultery,  but  the 
law  of  Christ  forbids  a  man  to  lust 
after  a  woman,  for  then  he  has 
already  committed  adultery  in  his 
heart.  Christ  wanted  an  inward 
purity.  The  old  law  required  an 
".  .  .  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for 
a  tooth"  (3  Nephi  12:38). 

The  new  law  required: 

But  I  say  unto  you,  that  ye  shall  not 


resist  evil,  but  whosoever  shall  smite  thee 
on  thy  right  cheek,  turn  to  him  the  other 
also  ....  And  whosoever  shall  compel 
thee  to  go  a  mile,  go  with  him  twain  .... 
And  behold  it  is  written  also,  that  thou 
shalt  love  thy  neighbor  and  hate  thine 
enemy;  But  behold  I  say  unto  you,  love 
your  enemies,  bless  them  that  curse  you, 
do  good  to  them  that  hate  you,  and  pray 
for  them  who  despitefully  use  you  and 
persecute  you;  That  ye  may  be  the  chil- 
dren of  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven;  for 
he  maketh  his  sun  to  rise  on  the  evil  and 
on  the  good.  Therefore  those  things 
which  were  of  old  time,  which  were  un- 
der the  law,  in  me  are  all  fulfilled.  Old 
things  are  done  away  and  all  things  have 
become  new.  Therefore  I  would  that  ye 
should  be  perfect  even  as  I,  or  your  Father 
who  is  in  heaven  is  perfect  (3  Nephi 
12:39,  41,  43-48). 

Jesus  further  states: 

Verily,  verily,  I  say  that  I  would  that 
ye  should  do  alms  unto  the  poor;  but  take 
heed  that  ye  do  not  your  alms  before  men 
to  be  seen  of  them;  otherwise  ye  have  no 
reward  of  your  Father  who  is  in  heaven 
(3  Nephi  13:1). 

That  thine  alms  may  be  in  secret;  and 
thy  Father  who  seeth  in  secret,  himself 
shall  reward  thee  openly.  And  when  thou 
prayest  thou  shalt  not  do  as  the  hypo- 
crites, for  they  love  to  pray,  standing  in 
the  synagogues  and  in  the  corners  of  the 
streets,  that  they  may  be  seen  of  men. 
Verily  I  say  unto  you,  they  have  their  re- 
ward. But  thou,  when  thou  prayest,  enter 
into  thy  closet,  and  when  thou  hast  shut 
thy  door,  pray  to  thy  Father  who  is  in 
secret;  and  thy  Father,  who  seeth  in  sec- 
ret, shall  reward  thee  openly  (3  Nephi 
13:4-6). 

Lay  not  up  for  yourselves  treasures  up- 
on earth,  where  moth  and  rust  doth  cor- 
•rupt,  and  thieves  break  through  and  steal; 
But  lay  up  for  yourselves  treasures  in  heav- 
en, where  neither  moth  nor  rust  doth  cor- 
rupt, and  where  thieves  do  not  break 
through  nor  steal.  For  where  your  treas- 
ure is,  there  will  your  heart  be  also  (3 
Nephi  13:19-21). 

No  man  can  serve  two  masters;  for  eith- 
er he  will  hate  the  one  and  love  the  other, 


126 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


or  else  he  will  hold  to  the  one  and 
despise  the  other.  Ye  cannot  serve  God 
and  Mammon  ( 3  Nephi  13:24). 

Importance  oi  Spirituality 

In  this  sermon  to  the  Nephites, 
Christ  points  out  that  materialism 
is  made  to  serve  spirituality;  it  is  nev- 
er an  end  in  itself.  "But  seek  ye 
first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his 
righteousness,  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you"  (3  Nephi 
13:33),  Jesus  promised. 

Jesus  calls  censorious  persons 
hypocrites,  and  classifies  them  as 
worse  than  the  people  they  criticize. 

And  now  it  came  to  pass  that  when 
Jesus  had  spoken  these  words  he  turned 
again  to  the  multitude,  and  did  open  his 
mouth  unto  them  again,  saying:  Verily, 
verily,  I  say  unto  you,  Judge  not,  that  ye 
be  not  judged.  For  with  what  judgment 
ye  judge,  ye  shall  be  judged;  and  with 
what  measure  ye  mete,  it  shall  be  meas- 
ured to  you  again.  And  why  beholdest 
thou  the  mote  that  is  in  thy  brother's  eye, 
but  considereth  not  the  beam  that  is  in 
thine  own  eye?  ....  Thou  hypocrite,  first 
cast  the  beam  out  of  thine  own  eye;  and 
then  shalt  thou  see  clearly  to  cast  the 
mote  out  of  thy  brother's  eye   (3  Nephi 

14:1"3»  5)- 

The  Golden  Rule 

Jesus  explained  his  readiness  to 
bless  mankind: 

Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  unto  you; 
seek,  and  ye  shall  find;  knock,  and  it  shall 
be  opened  unto  you.  For  every  one  that 
asketh,  receiveth;  and  he  that  seeketh, 
findeth;  and  to  him  that  knocketh,  it  shall 
be  opened  (3  Nephi  14:7-8). 

Jesus  then  gave  the  golden  rule: 
'Therefore,  all  things  whatsoever 
ye  would  that  men  should  do  to 
you,  do  ye  even  so  to  them,  for  this 


is  the  law  and  the  prophets"  (3  Ne- 
phi 14:12).  Notice  that  this  rule 
makes  Christianity  a  positive  re- 
ligion rather  than  a  negative  one.  It 
inculcates  active  benevolence.  Jesus 
also  warns  us  to: 

Beware  of  false  prophets,  who  come  to 
you  in  sheep's  clothing,  but  inwardly  they 
are  ravening  wolves.  Ye  shall  know  them 
by  their  fruits.  Do  men  gather  grapes  of 
thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles?  (3  Nephi 
14:15-16). 

Finally,  Jesus  urged  men  to  acti- 
vate the  doctrines  he  taught  in  their 
own  lives.  ''Not  every  one  that  saith 
unto  me,  Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter  in- 
to the  kingdom  of  heaven;  but  he 
that  doeth  the  will  of  my  Father 
who  is  in  heaven"  (3  Nephi  14:21). 
And  he  closed  the  sermon  with  the 
parable  of  the  man  who  built  his 
house  upon  the  sand  and  the  man 
who  built  his  house  upon  the  rock, 
emphasizing  the  need  for  applying 
gospel  truths  to  our  lives.  Jesus  was 
interested  in  life  service  to  human- 
ity; not  lip  service.  The  urgent 
words  of  the  Lord  to  Moses  are 
apropos: 

These  words  which  I  command  you 
this  day,  shall  be  in  your  heart,  and  you 
shall  meditate  upon  them,  sitting  in  your 
house  and  walking  on  your  journey,  sleep- 
ing and  rising. 

Questions  and  Topics  iox  Discussion 

1.  Are  we  applying  the  teachings  of  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  today? 

2.  How  does  the  sermon  in  The  Book 
of  Mormon  differ  from  the  one  in  the 
Bible?  Give  instances  where  Christ  points 
out  the  need  for  correcting  practices. 

3.  How  does  this  account  of  Christ's 
appearance  and  teachings  strengthen  your 
testimony? 


Visiting  cJeacher    1 1 Lessages 

Book  of  Mormon  Gems  of  Truth 

Lesson  40— " .  .  .  For  Behold,  Ye  Are  Free;  Ye  Are  Permitted  to  Act  For 

Yourselves;  For  Behold,  God  Hath  Given  Unto  You  a  Knowledge 

and  He  Hath  Made  You  Free"  (Helaman  14:30). 

Edith  S.  Elliott 

For  Tuesday,  May  1,  1956 

Objective:  To  show  that  free  agency  is  an  eternal  gift. 


HPHERE  was  never  any  other  in- 
tent by  our  Heavenly  Father 
than  that  man  should  be  free  to  act 
for  himself.  The  whole  plan  of 
salvation  encompasses  this  premise. 
Throughout  scriptural  history  we 
read  about  the  fruits  of  freedom 
and  the  curse  of  bondage. 

In  the  Book  of  Helaman,  we  read 
how  Nephi  exhorted  the  people  to 
turn  from  their  selfish  ways  and  live 
the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  and  be 
ready  for  his  coming.  He  also  re- 
minded them  that  they  each  had 
their  free  agency.  In  all  of  our  re- 
lations with  our  Father  in  heaven, 
he  has  made  it  clear  that  we  are  at 
liberty  to  choose  our  mode  of  be- 
havior. 

In  our  everyday  lives  it  is  the  di- 
vine gift  of  freedom  that  we  must 
cherish.  Unless  we  guard  this  preci- 
ous gift  we  will  be  subjects  for  en- 
slavement by  the  power  of  darkness 
in  both  our  spiritual  and  temporal 
conduct. 

We  have  all  seen  the  dwarfing  ef- 
fects of  apathy  and  indifference  to 
a  worthy  project.  These  factors 
court  decay  of  the  will  to  do,  to  act, 
to  think,  to  initiate,  to  be  free.  They 
are  indeed  a  form  of  enslavement. 


Let  us  be  aware  of  entangling  in- 
fluences and  cast  them  aside;  rather 
let  us  choose  our  Heavenly  Father's 
plan.  He  has  given  us  a  knowledge 
that  under  any  circumstance  our  will 
to  do  is  free.  Matthew  Arnold's  ex- 
planation is: 

Yet  the  will  is  free;  strong  is  the  soul 
and  wise,  and  beautiful;  The  seeds  of 
God-like  power  are  in  us  still.  Gods  are 
we,  bards,  saints,  heroes,  if  we  will  (Cour- 
age, page  12). 

To  enjoy  the  liberties  with  which 
we  are  so  blessed,  we  must  respect 
the  rights  of  others.  We  do  not 
need  to  indulge  our  fellow  man  to 
the  point  of  losing  our  own  free- 
dom and  self-respect,  nor  should  we 
be  selfish  to  the  point  of  forcing  our 
will  upon  another.  Understanding, 
compassion,  and  truth  are  founda- 
tions for  peaceful  relations  one  with 
another. 

It  is  only  through  freedom  and 
liberty  that  we  can  develop  our  God- 
given  talents  and  enjoy  the  oppor- 
tunity to  choose  our  way  of  life,  and 
we  should  do  so,  with  judgment,  in- 
telligence, and  honor,  for  our  Heav- 
enly Father  has  given  us  the  knowl- 
edge. 

Page  127 


vi/ork    1 1  ieettng — Food  Preparation  and  Service 


(A  Course  Recommended  for  Use  by  Wards  and  Branches  at  Work  Meeting) 

Lesson  8— Salads 

Rhea  H.  Gardner 

For  Tuesday,  May  8,  1956 


CALADS  have  been  accorded  an 
undisputed  place  of  importance 
on  the  family  menu,  and  at  many 
social  functions  where  food  is 
served.  Reasons  for  their  popu- 
larity are  many.  Salads  made  from 
fresh  fruits  and  vegetables  add  col- 
or, eye  appeal,  and  texture  contrast 
to  many  meals  that  otherwise  would 
be  too  soft  and  lacking  in  color  for 
appetite  appeal.  In  this  weight- 
watching  age,  they  satisfy  the  ap- 
petite with  a  minimum  of  calories— 
unless  there  is  an  over-use  of  rich 
dressing. 

Preparing  Salads 

Since  the  success  of  many  salads 
depends  upon  crispness  and  fresh- 
ness, every  precaution  should  be 
taken  in  their  preparation  to  pre- 
serve these  qualities.  Always  cut 
salad  foods  with  a  very  sharp  knife 
so  they  will  not  have  that  "over- 
handled"  look. 

There  are  certain  basic  principles 
of  salad-making  and  service  that 
apply  to  all  kinds  of  mixed  salads. 

1.  Cut  pieces  up  small  enough  so  they 
may  be  easily  eaten,  but  large  enough  so 
the  identity  of  each  kind  of  food  used  is 
not  lost. 

2.  When  combining  two  or  more  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  fruits  or  vegetables  for  a 
salad,  try  for  color,  flavor,  form,  and  tex- 
ture contrast,  as  well  as  harmony. 

3.  Plan   the  ingredients  for  your  salad 

Page  128 


and  the  salad  dressing  along  with  every- 
thing else  on  the  menu  so  that  when 
the  meal  is  served  there  will  be  a  perfect 
balance  of  all  the  essentials  of  a  well- 
planned  meal. 

4.  Unless  served  only  in  minute 
amounts,  never  duplicate  ingredients  used 
in  a  salad  in  other  parts  of  the  meal. 

5.  Let  simplicity  guide  you  in  your  sal- 
ad making.  A  salad  that  gives  the  ap- 
pearance of  having  been  worked  over  is 
seldom  attractive. 

6.  Never  let  any  part  of  a  salad  ex- 
tend beyond  the  edge  of  the  plate.  To 
do  so  gives  the  plate  an  overloaded,  care- 
less appearance. 

Salad  Dressing 

Salad  dressings  are  of  three  main 
types  —  French,  mayonnaise,  and 
cooked  salad  dressing.  The  early 
Romans  are  credited  with  being  the 
first  to  use  salad  dressing.  It  con- 
sisted of  oil  and  vinegar.  The 
French  added  eggs  and  seasoning 
to  it  and  called  it  mayonnaise.  The 
American  housewives  initiated  the 
use  of  boiled  salad  dressing.  Today 
there  is  almost  no  limit  to  the  num- 
ber of  variations  of  French  dressing 
alone.  This  is  the  simplest  to  make 
and  most  widely  used  dressing. 

Tossed  Salads 

In  some  ways  tossed  salads  are 
like  little  boys.  Most  everyone 
loves  them,  and  if  you  want  them 
to  be  nice  and  fresh  looking  for  the 
dinner  party,  put  the  "dressing"  on 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


129 


them  the  last  minute.  They'll  both 
lose  their  chief  charm  by  becoming 
"limp"  if  you  don't. 

Have  the  ingredients  for  a  tossed 
salad  fresh,  cold,  crisp,  and  dry,  and 
have  the  dressing  ready  to  put  on  it 
just  as  soon  as  the  vegetables  are 
prepared.  A  tossed  salad  is  im- 
proved by  giving  it  a  preliminary 
coating  of  oil.  About  one  table- 
spoonful  of  salad  oil  will  coat  a 
medium-sized  head  of  lettuce.  Toss 
it  until  every  leaf  is  completely 
coated  with  oil,  then  follow  up  with 
the  dressing,  usually  French  or  one 
of  its  variations,  and  toss  until  it 
is  distributed  over  all  the  greens. 
If  the  salad  is  mixed  on  this  prin- 
ciple it  will  stay  crisp. 

It  is  unwise  to  add  cut-up  toma- 
toes to  a  tossed  salad,  as  their  juices 
thin  the  dressing.  Instead,  cut 
them  in  vertical  wedges  as  they 
bleed  less  that  way,  season  them  in 
a  separate  bowl  if  you  wish,  then 
add  them  to  the  salad  bowl  as  a 
garnish.  The  flavor  of  all  vegetables, 
excluding  salad  greens,  is  improved 
by  mixing  them  with  French  dress- 
ing and  allowing  them  to  stand  for 
at  least  one  half  hour  in  a  cold 
place.  Place  the  seasoned  vege- 
tables on  the  salad  greens.  They 
may  or  may  not  be  mixed  in  with 
them. 

Most  of  us  do  not  begin  to  ex- 
haust the  variety  of  vegetables  that 
are  delicious  in  tossed  salads.  Bite- 
size  flowerettes  broken  from  a  head 
of  cauliflower  or  broccoli,  shredded 
raw  beets  or  turnips,  tender  leaves 
of  spinach,  and  raw  peas,  are  a  few 
of  the  delicious  but  seldom  used 
salad  vegetables. 


Fruit  Salads 

Make  fruit  salads  to  be  served 
with  the  main  course  light  and 
simple.  The  citrus  fruits  and  oth- 
er acid  fruits  are  most  appropriate. 
If  you  use  sweet,  soft,  canned 
fruits,  combine  them  with  fresh 
fruits  or  something  crisp,  such  as 
celery.  Drain  canned  fruits  well, 
so  ther~  will  be  no  juice  on  the  sal- 
ad plate  and  the  dressing  will  not 
become  diluted. 

Molded  Salads 

Molded  salads  are  convenient  be- 
cause they  demand  little  last-min- 
ute attention.  Make  the  gelatin 
mixture  just  firm  enough  to  hold 
the  other  ingredients  together.  Se- 
lect a  flavor  that  compliments  but 
never  dominates  the  flavor  of  the 
other  ingredients  used. 

Variations  in  Salads 

Main  course  salads  usually  con- 
sist of  a  protein  food  and  fruits  or 
vegetables  blended  together  with 
one  of  the  heavier  dressings.  If 
lettuce  is  used,  add  it  only  after 
other  ingredients  have  been  com- 
bined and  just  before  the  salad  is 
to  be  served. 

Hot  dressing  salads  may  be  served 
either  as  a  salad  or  as  a  vegetable. 
Hot  potato  salad  dressing  is  usually 
made  of  bacon  fat,  vinegar,  and 
seasonings.  Luncheon-type  meat, 
cheese,  or  boiled  eggs  may  be  added 
before  or  after  the  dressing.  A  sim- 
ple hot  dressing  made  of  vinegar, 
eggs,  sour  cream,  and  seasonings, 
gives  a  pleasing  variety  to  cabbage 
salad. 

A  bed  for  a  salad  need  not  always 
be  lettuce.  Shredded  cabbage, 
watercress,  tender  leaves  of  spinach, 


130 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


shredded  carrots,  endive,  or  other  will  always  be  a  creative  experience 

salad  greens,  make  attractive  back-  to  look  forward  to. 
grounds    as    well    as    flavorful    ac- 
companiments to  salads.  Suggestions  ior  a  Demonstration 

Make  a  habit  of  using  a  variety         Prepare    a    variety    of    salads    to 

of  salad  dressings  as  well  as  salad  demonstrate  the  principles  of  salad 

combinations     and     meal-planning  making. 

Note  the  supplementary  material  to  this  lesson  in  the  article  "Salads  for  Health 
and  Beauty,"  by  Rhea  H.  Gardner,  on  page  108  of  this  issue  of  The  Relief  Society 
Magazine. 


^Literature — The  Literature  of  England 


Lesson  56— Review  of  English  Literature 

Elder  Briant  S.  Jacobs 

(Textbook:  The  Literature  of  England,  Volumes  I  and  II,  Woods,  Watt,  Anderson) 

For  Tuesday,  May  15,  1956 

Objective:  To  remind  and  surprise  ourselves  at  how  much  we  have  forgotten  and 
remembered. 

Note:  This  lesson  will  be  most  effective,  it  is  believed,  if  the  program  of  review 
is  followed  by  using  eight  participants,  as  recommended  by  Brother  Jacobs.  The  general 
board  does  not  approve  of  women  dressing  as  men;  however,  the  eight  sisters  who  read 
the  excerpts  might  be  dressed  as  women  in  the  dress  of  the  respective  periods,  and  have 
before  them  the  writing  materials  used  at  that  particular  time  to  lend  atmosphere  to 
the  presentation. 


CHORTLY  before  his  death  in 
901  a.d.,  Alfred  the  Great,  King 
of  the  West  Saxons  and  one  of  the 
brightest  torches  in  England's  his- 
tory, wrote  the  following:  "He 
seems  to  me  a  very  foolish  man,  and 
very  wretched,  who  will  not  increase 
his  understanding  while  he  is  alive." 
Earlier,  Socrates  (469-399  b.c.)  had 
written  that  "surely  knowledge  is 
the  food  of  the  soul,"  while  later 
Francis  Bacon  (1561-1626)  tells  us 
that  "whatever  deserves  to  exist  de- 
serves also  to  be  known,  for  knowl- 
edge is  the  image  of  existence  and 
things    mean    and    splendid    exist 


alike"  (my  underscore).  Likewise 
we  are  commanded  in  the  Bible, 
".  .  .  with  all  thy  getting  get  under- 
standing" (Prov.  4:7)  and  in  the 
Doctrine  and  Covenants  ".  .  .  teach 
one  another  ...  in  all  things  that 
pertain  unto  the  kingdom  of 
God..."  (D.&C.  88:77,  78). 

How  humbly  we  stand  before 
these  great  words,  how  full  is  our 
gratitude  for  membership  in  the 
Church  whose  restoring  Prophet 
taught  that  "A  man  is  saved  no  fast- 
er than  he  gets  knowledge" 
(D.  H.  C.  IV,  588).  How  grateful 
for  membership  in  the  Relief  So- 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


131 


ciety,  which  bolsters  its  belief  in  in- 
telligence as  God's  glory  in  one  way 
by  leading  its  members  each  study- 
month  to  "the  best  that  has  been 
thought  and  said  in  the  world." 

Through  the  past  seven  years  of 
readings  and  discussions  in  English 
Literature,  we  have  opened  many 
doors,  yet,  rarely,  have  we  squeezed 
inside  more  than  a  toe  or  a  hand- 
once  or  twice  a  head,  almost.  Prob- 
ably a  normal  reaction  might  be  to 
classify  these  seven  years  as  an  ap- 
prentice period  which  has  served  to 
define  the  outer  limits  of  our  scope, 
but  now  we  should  really  begin  to 
master  this  material  which  we  know 
but  casually.  To  such  thorough  and 
willing  initiates  we  should  point  out 
that,  by  its  very  nature,  this  course 
was  never  meant  to  be  anything  but 
introductory.  If  our  study  has  giv- 
en pleasure  in  the  search  and  the 
sharing;  if  it  has  stimulated  our  sis- 
ters to  love  the  best  enough  to 
search  for  it  both  within  and  be- 
yond the  bounds  of  our  outline, 
then  nothing  has  been  in  vain. 

Three  Goals  Attained 

But  though  we  have  not  accomp- 
lished all,  which  was  never  our  aim, 
still  we  have  nibbled  at  three  goals, 
at  least.  Nothing  broadens  like 
travel,  whether  in  time  or  space.  In 
our  travels  back  through  time  we 
have  come  to  know  a  vast  array  of 
men  and  women  from  all  walks  of 
life.  Because  we  have  become  ac- 
quainted with  them  through  their 
most  intimate  hopes  and  fears  and 
beliefs,  as  couched  in  their  own 
carefully  weighed  words,  we  may 
possibly  know  their  real  selves  bet- 
ter than  did  their  non-reading  con- 
temporaries. 

Each  of  these  writers  has,  in  turn, 


led  us  personally  by  the  hand  past 
labyrinths  of  obscurity,  pettiness, 
bombast,  and  insincerity;  past 
mountains  of  evidence  both  perti- 
nent and  inconsequential,  to  face 
those  conflicts  and  hopes  which 
were  central  to  himself  and  his  age. 
Our  survey  has  thus  enabled  us  to 
peel  back  the  layers  of  peoples, 
customs,  ambitions,  and  fears  which 
have  been  laid  up,  then  scrambled 
together,  to  form  England  through 
the  centuries. 

Finally,  by  bringing  us  to  know  all 
sorts  of  men  and  cultures  through 
time,  our  survey  has  provided  the 
basis  for  comparing  one  reality,  one 
writer  with  another,  and  most  im- 
portant of  all,  with  ourselves  and 
our  present  world.  The  voyage  into 
perpetual  self-discovery  is  one  of 
the  most  important  we  can  under- 
take. Here,  again,  our  survey  has 
provided  at  least  a  launching. 

Such  a  study  of  literature  pro- 
longs life  by  quickening  and  deep- 
ening it.  Wise  Winston  Churchill 
defines  three  types  of  people:  those 
who  are  toiled  to  death,  those  who 
are  worried  to  death,  and  those  who 
are  bored  to  death.  In  the  last  two 
areas,  so  increasingly  lethal  today, 
literature  gives  ballast  and  balance 
and  inward  calm;  once  these  are 
established,  zest  and  the  love  of  life 
follow. 

Breaking  the  Time  Barrier 

In  looking  back  over  these  seven 
years  devoted  to  English  literature, 
we  must  remember  that,  being 
mortal  and  human,  and  heirs  to 
those  who  have  preceded  us,  we 
should  emphasize  those  values 
which  we  have  in  common  with  our 
brothers  through  time  rather  than 
those  which  separate  us.    Thanks  to 


132 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


the  wonders  of  language  and  books, 
about  the  only  barrier  which  sepa- 
rate us— time  itself— can  be  removed 
at  any  moment  by  those  who  will 
bother  to  open  a  book.  It  sounds 
almost  too  easy. 

It  is  Herman  Melville  who  re- 
minds us  that  "genius  all  over  the 
world  stands  hand  in  hand,  and  one 
shock  of  recognition  runs  the  whole 
circle  round."  Excellence  knows  no 
bounds. 

Procedure 

Now  let  us  put  our  imaginations 
to  work;  let  us  annihilate  time  as 
suggested  above.  Since,  in  varying 
degree,  each  of  us  recognizes  excel- 
lence and  genius,  consider,  if  you 
will,  how  much  more  apparent  these 
high  virtues  must  be  to  those  who 
possess  these  attributes.  Enter  with 
us,  then,  if  you  can,  a  large  and 
stately  study  severely  plain  and  sub- 
dued in  decor.  The  walls  are  book- 
lined  from  floor  to  ceiling,  the  room 
is  gently  lighted  from  high  narrow 
windows,  draped.  As  we  face  the 
window-slits,  only  one  object  breaks 
the  gleam  of  light  reflected  across 
the  polished  floor:  a  large  round 
table  in  the  center  of  the  room. 
Around  it  are  eight  high-backed 
oaken  chairs  spaced  at  regular  inter- 
vals on  which  eight  men  are  seated, 
writing.  The  writing  materials  vary 
—much  goat  and  sheepskin  scraped 
clean  and  dried  into  parchment, 
various  grades  and  shapes  of  paper, 
while  writing  instruments  vary  from 
goose  quills  to  steel-nib  dip  pens, 
to  handmade  pencils  and  fountain 
pens. 

We  wait  for  a  time.  The  men 
seem  unaware  of  our  presence,  writ- 
ing as  if  in  a  trance,  intent,  dedi- 


cated. The  tension  of  stillness  is 
blurred  only  by  the  scratch  of  pen- 
flourishes.  Still  we  wait.  Finally, 
when  nothing  happens,  slowly  we 
approach  near  enough  to  read  over 
a  man's  shoulder  as  he  writes.  It  is 
difficult  to  see  past  his  massive 
shoulders  and  full  black  cowl  as  he 
leans  forward  to  his  manuscript; 
finally  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  first 
three  lines  which,  translated,  read: 

Lo!  We  have  listened  to  many  a  lay 

Of  the  Spear-Danes'  fame,  their  splendor 

of  old, 
Their  mighty  princes,  and  martial  deeds! 

Thus  begins  BeowuHy  the  oldest 
known  writing  in  English.  Probably 
first  written  down  by  this  English 
monk,  sometime  around  the  year 
1000,  it  was  probably  composed  in 
northern  England  about  750. 

Inasmuch  as  we  have  used  our 
imaginations  freely  thus  far,  we  can- 
not retract  now.  Therefore,  let  us 
imagine  the  great  hall  containing 
the  round  table  is  our  hall  here  and 
now,  and  the  eight  persons  seated 
about  it  are  transformed  into  eight 
Relief  Society  sisters  chosen  to 
speak  for  the  eight  periods  and  the 
best  writings  of  each  period.  Per- 
haps, after  an  introductory  state- 
ment incorporating  the  scope  and 
goals  of  our  study  of  English  litera- 
ture, each  of  the  eight  might  stand, 
declare  the  age  she  represents,  then 
read  a  brief  excerpt  from  the  best 
writings  of  the  age  before  passing 
the  continuity  on  to  the  next  pe- 
riod. 

In  preparing  the  introductory  ma- 
terial or  the  unifying  narrative,  the 
class  leader  should  be  reminded  that 
her  functions  might  be  compared  to 
that  of  the  string  which  connects 
the  pearls.    In  this  project  the  em- 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


133 


phasis  should  be  on  the  literature 
itself;  theory  and  history  best  justify 
themselves,  if  they  merely  join  to- 
gether the  various  selections  and 
then  remain  in  the  background. 

It  would  seem  that  the  greatest 
problem  might  be  the  selecting  of 
what  to  read.  Since  the  purpose  of 
this  hour  is  primarily  one  of  enjoy- 
ment through  participation  and 
recollection,  the  class  leader  should 
recall  those  passages  which  she  re- 
members most  fondly  or  which  she 
feels  will  be  best  received. 

I.  The  Old  English  Period,  449- 
1066  (Text,  vol.  I,  pp.  2-71) 

From  the  Anglo-Saxon  Invasion 
to  the  Norman  Conquest 

In  410  a.d.  the  Romans  left  Brit- 
ain. In  428  began  the  Germanic 
invasions  of  England,  organized 
more  completely  by  Hengest  and 
Horsa  in  449.  Wave  after  wave  of 
Scandinavian  Vikings  brought  con- 
stant pillage  and  warfare.  About 
850  England  was  conquered  by  the 
Danes  and  ruled  by  them  until  Al- 
fred the  Great  broke  their  power. 

The  period  began  in  barbaric 
paganism,  with  England  a  mysteri- 
ous isle  on  the  outer  edge  of  civil- 
ization. Blood-guilt  or  murder- 
guilt  could  be  removed  by  giving  of 
gifts  to  the  murdered's  kin.  The 
hero-warrior  was  supreme,  and  ties 
of  blood  were  strongest.  The  Teu- 
tonic mind  was  moody,  somber,  and 
stubborn.  The  high  virtues,  as 
seen  in  Beowulf,  were  pride,  person- 
al honor,  and  courage,  and  loyalty. 

In  597  Christianity  was  organized 
in  southern  England  by  St.  Augus- 
tine, and  by  the  end  of  the  period, 
through  the  saving,  perpetuating 
functions  of  the  monasteries  and 
the  great  love  of  learning  of  Alfred 


the  Great,  Christianity  was  domi- 
nant. 

The  reader  might  choose  to  read 
aloud  a  scene  from  BeowuJf  (pp. 
21-56)  or  a  selection  from  "The 
Wanderer"  (page  57),  'The  Sea- 
farer" (page  58),  or  the  lovely, 
simple  Parable  of  the  Sparrow  as 
found  in  Bede's  Ecclesiastical  His- 
tory (page  64,  lines  51-72). 

2.  The  Middle  English  (or  Mediev- 
al) Period,  1066-1485  (Text,  vol.  I, 
pp.   72-277) 

From  the  Norman  Conquest  to 
the  Accession  of  the  Tudors 

This  period  serves  as  the  link  be- 
tween wild,  prehistoric,  and  modern 
England.  Four  great  influences 
dominate  these  centuries:  first,  the 
conquest  of  England  in  1066  by 
William  of  Normandy,  who  made 
French  language  and  literature  dom- 
inant until  after  1400;  second,  the 
feudal  pattern  of  life,  which  pre- 
ceded the  English  village,  in  which 
the  manor  of  the  lord  or  the  duke 
was  the  center  of  life  and  common- 
ers were  serfs  or  slaves  to  the  mas- 
ter, he  in  turn  having  the  strongest 
loyalty  for  his  lord  and  king;  third, 
the  ideals  of  chivalry  —  gentility  to- 
ward all  women,  kindness,  courage, 
fighting  against  wrong,  but,  most 
powerful  of  all,  was  the  concept  of 
courtly  love  —  all  these  dominated 
the  world  of  lords  and  ladies  and 
knights.  The  fourth  and  greatest 
force  of  the  age,  however,  was  re- 
ligion: the  pursuit  of  the  Holy 
Grail,  the  ten  Crusades,  the  other 
worldliness  of  the  church-dominat- 
ed culture. 

Yet  then  as  now  people  were  peo- 
ple. While  there  was  violent  per- 
secution by  church  and  state  for 
heresy,    there    was    healthy    vigor 


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among  the  commoners,  as  seen  in 
their  riddles  and  ballads  which  sur- 
vive to  the  present  day,  notably 
"Edward"  (page  117),  'The  Two 
Corbies"  (page  119),  "Sir  Patrick 
Spens"  (page  122),  "The  Wife  of 
Usher's  Well"  (page  124),  and 
"Bonny  Barbara  Allen"  (page  124). 
The  medieval  romance  was  popular, 
as  in  Morte  Darthur  (page  261), 
and  Sir  Gawain  and  the  Green 
Knight  (page  167),  and  the  moral- 
ity play  was  the  great  artform  for 
the  people.  Chaucer,  by  first  writ- 
ing in  English  with  power,  by  com- 
bining almost  every  contemporary 
subject  and  literary  form  in  his 
works,  but  mostly  by  knowing  and 
loving  his  fellow  humans  more 
deeply  and  compassionately  than 
almost  any  other  English  writer,  is 
the  best  representative  of  the  age. 
The  reader  might  choose  to  read 
from  the  folk  ballads,  or  from 
the  immortal  characterizations  of 
knight  (page  212),  merchant  (page 
216),  or  prioress  (page  213),  as 
found  in  the  Prologue  (page  211) 
to  Chaucer's  Canterbury  Tales. 

3.  The  Renaissance  Period,  1485- 
1625  (Text,  vol.  I,  pp.  278-564) 

From  the  Accession  of  the  Tu- 
dors  to  the  Death  of  James  I. 

One  of  the  richest  flowerings  of 
the  English  spirit,  this  period  pro- 
duced some  of  its  greatest  literature, 
as  seen  in  the  King  James  transla- 
tion of  the  Bible,  and  in  the  writ- 
ings of  Sir  Francis  Bacon,  John 
Bunyan,  Ben  Jonson,  John  Donne, 
Robert  Herrick,  George  Herbert, 
and,  above  all,  William  Shake- 
speare. Freed  from  domination  by 
church  and  illiteracy,  more  and 
more  Englishmen  expressed  the  ex- 
uberance they  felt  as  England  be- 


came a  great  commercial  nation  and 
the  reigning  queen  of  the  seas  after 
defeating  Spain  in  1588.  Likewise, 
in  the  discovery  that  man  can  know 
and  understand  the  world  about 
him,  and  even  control  and  better 
his  lot,  the  typical  Rennaissance 
citizen  believed  all  knowledge  to  be 
in  his  province,  that  everything 
"which  deserves  to  exist  deserves  to 
be  known." 

It  is  most  difficult  to  choose 
merely  one  or  two  selections  from 
this  age  of  our  greatest  poetry,  but 
at  the  top  of  the  list  must  appear 
Shakespeare's  sonnets  and  selections 
from  the  King  James  Bible.  Sug- 
gested sonnets  are  18  (page  424), 
29  (page  425),  33  (page  426),  55 
(page  426),  104  (page  428),  and, 
perhaps  best  known,  116  (page 
428).  Songs  from  Shakespeare's 
plays  (pp.  429-433)  contain  some  of 
the  loveliest  lyrics  in  the  language. 
Bible  selections  (text,  pp.  520-547) 
are  best-known  to  us.  Therefore,  it 
seems  rather  superfluous  to  name 
one  passage  above  another,  so  per- 
sonal are  many. 

4.  The  Puritan  Interlude,  1625-1660 
(Text,  vol.  I,  pp.  564-719) 

From  the  Death  of  James  I  to  the 
Restoration  of  Charles  II. 

The  English  peoples  ever  have 
been  filled  with  fervor  for  right  and 
truth  and  godliness.  In  Bunyan 
(page  705)  and  Milton  (page  638) 
we  have  the  two  great  voices  of 
Puritanism.  In  majesty  and  poetic 
use  of  language  Milton  has  been 
rivaled  only  by  Shakespeare,  while 
his  personal  intensity,  his  moral  and 
spiritual  integrity  stand  supreme. 
Milton  the  man  and  Milton  the 
artist  are  inseparable.    His  one  mag- 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


135 


nificent  protest  against  the  Cavalier 
and  Roman  artificialities,  and  bis 
ringing  affirmation  of  man's  neces- 
sary right  to  courage,  moral,  and 
spiritual  strength,  and  unhampered 
freedom  of  the  will— all  these  vir- 
tues set  him  apart  and  above  from 
the  lesser  lights  of  English  litera- 
ture. And  for  the  epic  brilliance  of 
his  poetry,  read  from  Paradise  Lost, 
Book  I  (page  650),  at  will.  Again, 
Milton's  ability  to  write  poetry  of 
beauty  and  music  and  great  inner 
power  can  be  displayed  by  reading 
from  Samson  Agonistes  (page  676). 

5.  The  Neo-Classical  Period,  1660- 
1784  (Text,  vol.  I,  pp.  720-1131) 

The  Neo-Classical  movement 
arose  as  a  reaction  against  both  the 
laxness  of  Cavalier  literary  and  mor- 
al standards,  and  the  rigorous  se- 
verities of  the  Puritans.  It  was  an 
age  of  skepticism,  order,  reason.  A 
classical  symmetry  pervaded  litera- 
ture, music,  architecture,  and  land- 
scape gardening.  It  was  by  this 
same  ordering  of  nature  by  which 
the  ancient  Greek  and  Roman  writ- 
ers had  achieved  their  unrivaled  ex- 
cellence in  structure  and  form.  Neo- 
Classical  writers  followed  the  clas- 
sical unities  of  time,  place,  and  ac- 
tion, not  in  blind  adherence  to  rule, 
but  because  they  felt  they  must, 
since  by  following  the  ancients,  they 
best  followed  nature  and  reason. 

Wit,  reason,  balance,  restraint— 
these  qualities  predominate  in  the 
writings  of  Dryden  (page  768),  Ad- 
dison and  Steel  (page  885),  Pope 
(page  973),  Goldsmith  (page  1023), 
Johnson  (page  1043),  and,  in  a  les- 
ser degree  but  tinged  with  a  more 
bitter  satire,  in  Swift  (page  910). 

Perhaps  the  fairest  representative 


of  this  period  is  Alexander  Pope,  a 
brilliant  craftsman  and  writer  rath- 
er than  a  great  one.  For  power 
over  language,  for  skill  in  manipu- 
lating the  metrical  line  to  fit  his 
needs,  for  music  and  wit  and  bril- 
liance and  finish,  read  excerpts  from 
Epistle  II,  "An  Essay  on  Man" 
(page  999).  If  you  desire  some- 
thing of  lesser  intensity,  read  a  pas- 
sage from  Addison  or  Steele. 

This  concludes  excerpts  from  vol- 
ume I. 

6.  The  Romantic  Period,  1760-1832 
(Text,  vol.  II,  pp.  1-397) 

Just  as  the  pendulum  swung  far 
to  one  side  in  Neo-Classicism  as  it 
opposed  earlier  patterns,  so  emerg- 
ing Romanticism  swung  just  as  far 
in  the  opposite  direction  in  reaction 
against  what  it  considered  the  ex- 
cesses of  Neo-Classicism.  The  pre- 
vious period  had  been  of  the  head; 
emerging  Romanticism  was  of  the 
heart,  the  emotions,  the  imagina- 
tion. While  Neo-Classicism  had 
been  a  sophisticated  literary  move- 
ment designed  to  appeal  to  the  rich, 
noble,  intellectual,  and  leisurely 
classes,  Romanticism  gave  a  body 
to  the  new  forces  of  democracy:  It 
believed  passionately  in  the  individ- 
ual, in  freedom,  in  beauty,  love,  and 
nature. 

The  mature  Romantic  Move- 
ment began  in  the  works  of  Wil- 
liam Wordsworth  (page  118),  and 
Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  (page 
163),  but  these  two  writers  were 
prefaced  and  surrounded  by  a  group 
of  lesser  Romantics:  James  Thom- 
son (page  32),  William  Collins 
(page  66),  Thomas  Gray  (page 
46),  William  Cowper  (page  73), 
Robert  Burns   (page  83),  William 


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RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


Blake  (page  m),  Charles  Lamb 
(page  337),  and  William  Hazlitt 
(page  360).  The  great  Romantics, 
in  addition  to  Wordsworth  and  Cole- 
ridge, were  Sir  Walter  Scott  (page 
190),  Lord  Byron  (page  200),  Per- 
cy Bysshe  Shelley  (page  248),  and 
John  Keats  (page  273).  To  decide 
which  one  or  which  two  should  be 
read  is  about  as  difficult  as  choosing 
arbitrarily  which  star  in  the  summer 
heavens  is  the  brightest.  Here,  as 
throughout  this  review,  the  teacher 
is  encouraged  to  choose  that  which 
is  richest  and  best  for  her  and  her 
class.  Likewise,  I  can  name  those 
I  know  and  love  best  (which  really 
proves  nothing  for  others):  Coler- 
idge's "Kubla  Khan"  (page  184), 
Byron's  "She  Walks  in  Beauty" 
(page  205),  'The  Prisoner  of  Chil- 
lon"  (page  207),  "So  We'll  Go  No 
More  A-Roving"  (page  224);  Shel- 
ley's "Ozymandias"  (page  253), 
"Ode  to  the  West  Wind"  (page 
255),  "To  a  Skylark"  (page  258), 
"To  Night"  (page  261);  Keats'  "On 
First  Looking  into  Chapman's 
Homer"  (page  275),  "Ode  on  a 
Grecian  Urn"  (page  281),  "To  Aut- 
umn" (page  291),  "Bright  Star! 
Would  I  Were  Steadfast  as  Thou 
Art"  (page  292). 

7.  The  Victorian  Period,  1832-1880 

(Text,  vol.  II,  pp.  399-839) 

During  Victoria's  reign  England 
became  "big  business"  in  world-wide 
commerce  and  imperialism,  and  in 
manufacturing  and  scientific  prog- 
ress at  home.  With  the  widespread 
use  of  power  tools  and  engines  to 
save  labor  and  to  shrink  the  globe 
like  a  wrinkled  apple;  with  man's 
conquest  of  plague  and  pain,  many 
idealistic  Englishmen  came  to  be- 


lieve that  the  perfection  of  the  Ideal 
Man  was  to  be  attained  here  and 
now.  Others  saw  the  worship  of 
success  and  wealth  as  a  passion 
which  seriously  endangered  the 
English  spirit.  As  England  became 
wealthier,  at  the  same  time  some  of 
her  peoples  became  poorer;  this 
contrast  between  extremes  hurt. 
Likewise  painful  and  confusing  was 
the  wavering  between  faith  and 
doubt,  which  had  been  brought  to 
an  issue  as  new  scientific  thought 
conflicted  with  apostolic,  traditional 
religious  views. 

The  great  writers  of  this  period 
dealt  more  nearly  with  the  problems 
of  our  own  day:  Matthew  Arnold 
(page  527),  Tennyson,  (page  593), 
Dickens  (page 424),  Macaulay  (page 
427),  the  Brownings  (pp.  655  and 
709),  the  Brontes,  (Emily,  page 
716),  Thomas  Carlyle  (page  464), 
Ruskin  (page  501),  the  Rossettis 
(pp.  783  and  748) .  "The  spirit  mov- 
eth  where  it  listeth,"  and  likewise 
each  teacher  whose  responsibility 
asks  that  she  choose  one  representa- 
tive from  this  period  can  only  select 
the  one  who  speaks  to  her  and  her 
group  most  forcibly. 

8.  The  Break  With  Victorianism, 
1880-1914  (Text,  vol.  II,  pp.  841- 
1009) 

Fading    Traditions    and    New 
Patterns 

In  this  period,  even  more  near, 
the  problems,  hopes,  and  confu- 
sions of  our  own  day,  and  many  of 
the  clashes  of  the  Victorian  Period 
are  intensified;  also  there  emerges 
the  tendency  to  refuse  entirely  to 
acknowledge  problems  and  to  seek 
various  avenues  of  escape.  This  age, 
like  our  own,  contains  within  itself 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


137 


sample  forces  and  philosophies  and 
literary  trends  which  represent  al- 
most every  value  and  trend  in  Eng- 
lish Literature  since  the  Renais- 
sance. It  is  almost  like  counting 
off  our  own  family  as  we  list  the 
period's  voices:  Victorian  Humor- 
ists (pp.  826-839),  George  Eliot, 
Stevenson  (pp.  874,  934),  Synge 
(page  1002),  Kipling  (page  896), 
Housman  (page  909),  Masefield 
(page  927),  Henley  (page  863),  and 
Hardy  (page  918).  Again,  choose 
as  you  will,  but  to  me  Hardy's  "In 
Time  of  The  Breaking  of  Na- 
tions' '  (page  926),  might  be  one 
possible  choice. 

This  "voyage  into  self-discovery" 


is  now  at  an  end.  We  have  met 
ourselves  in  many  mirrors,  as  we 
have  seen  our  opposites.  We  have 
"weighed  and  considered"  a  great 
wealth  of  human  wisdom  and  art 
and  life.  May  this  study  now  serve 
as  provocation  to  further  reading 
and  growth,  rather  than  an  attained 
reward  fulfilled  at  the  present  mo- 
ment. May  you  invite  these  men 
constantly  into  your  homes  and  into 
your  own  hearts,  to  stimulate  and 
challenge  and  exalt.  After  all  "How 
can  I  learn  save  from  him  who  is 
my  friend?"  In  this  re-examination 
and  review  may  you  have  found 
many  friends  who  sustain  and  chal- 
lenge your  better  self. 


Social  Science — The  Constitution 
of  the  United  States 


Lesson  21—  The  Fruits  of  Freedom 
Elder  Albeit  R.  Bowen 

For  Tuesday,  May  22,  1956 

Objective:  To  show  that  the  growth  and  development  of  the  United  States  were 
made  possible  and  are  the  direct  result  of  the  institutions  of  freedom  established  by 
the  Constitution. 


Love  and  Respect  for  Constitution 

"C^OR  the  past  three  years  during 
which  time  the  Constitution  of 
the  United  States  has  been  the  sub- 
ject of  study  and  discussion,  the  wis- 
dom of  its  framers  has  been  referred 
to  on  many  occasions.  The  great- 
ness of  the  document  itself  has  been 
the  subject  of  frequent  comment, 
and  we  have  also  pointed  out  its 
sources,  history,  and  the  way  in 
which  it  has  worked  as  the  frame- 


work of  our  Government.  Above 
all  else,  we  have  lauded  this  great 
charter  of  our  liberty  as  the  guard- 
ian of  freedom  and  the  guarantor  of 
justice  to  all  having  the  good  for- 
tune to  live  under  its  influence.  We 
come  now  to  the  conclusion  of  this 
study,  and  it  is  hoped  that  there 
has  been  reaffirmed  in  the  heart  of 
every  member  of  the  Relief  Society, 
a  love  and  respect  for  the  Constitu- 
tion, coupled  with  a  deeper  appre- 
ciation   and    understanding    of    its 


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RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


great  and  indispensable  value  to  us, 
and  our  children,  and  our  children's 
children. 

Love  of  country  and  patriotism  is 
the  common  attitude  of  nearly  all 
Americans,  and  this  is  especially 
true  of  Latter-day  Saints.  It  was 
not  supposed  when  this  course  of 
study  was  decided  upon  that  the 
women  of  the  Relief  Society  need- 
ed any  serious  urging  to  love  of 
country  and  of  our  free  institutions. 
All  this  was  taken  for  granted.  Inti- 
mate study  and  the  refreshing  of 
recollection  of  the  things  we  were 
taught  as  children  in  school  con- 
cerning the  United  States,  must 
surely  enhance  and  strengthen  our 
patriotic  sentiments  and  make  us 
resolve  to  be  better  Americans,  bet- 
ter citizens,  and  cause  us  to  acknowl- 
edge the  goodness  of  God  in  pro- 
viding for  our  progress  and  happi- 
ness a  form  of  Government  which 
no  other  people  on  earth  have  the 
good  fortune  to  enjoy. 

Fruits  of  the  Constitution 

Long  ago  it  was  pointed  out  that 
the  test  of  a  man,  of  a  teaching,  of 
an  idea  presented  as  a  truth,  can  be 
judged  by  the  actions  of  the  man  or 
the  product  of  the  idea  or  teaching. 
"By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know 
them." 

What  are  the  fruits  of  the  Con- 
stitution? For  one-hundred  and 
sixty-seven  years  we  in  the  United 
States  have  lived  under  it.  By  now 
it  should  be  apparent  whether  it  has 
produced  a  good  fruit.  We  should 
be  able,  now,  to  judge  if  men  are 
better  off  living  under  such  a  system 
of  Government  as  it  provides,  or  if 
there  is  a  better  system  under  which 
men  can  prosper  more.  We  should 
judge  if  there  is  a  better  system  un- 


der which  men  can  realize,  to  a  full- 
er extent,  their  legitimate  hopes  and 
aspirations  and,  while  doing  so,  en- 
joy the  freedom  and  liberty  which 
is  so  essential  and  indispensable  to 
happiness.  We  all  of  us  know  the 
answer.  The  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  is  the  greatest  charter 
of  Government  ever  devised  in  the 
history  of  mankind. 

In  America  we  live  under  a  sys- 
tem commonly  called  the  'Tree 
Enterprise  System."  We  refer  to 
our  national  life  as  the  "American 
Way."  What  are  the  distinctive 
features  of  this  system? 

Freedom  oi  Choice 

It  is  fundamental  to  the  American 
system  that  men  are  entitled  to  free- 
dom of  choice.  Freedom  to  choose 
where  to  live,  what  occupation  or 
calling  to  follow,  for  whom  to  work, 
whom  to  hire,  and  when.  The  re- 
sult of  this  freedom  of  choice  has 
been  the  building  of  an  economic 
system  entirely  unique  and  far  more 
successful  and  productive  than  exists 
anywhere  else  on  the  face  of  the 
earth. 

Right  to  Own  Property 

Closely  allied  to  freedom  of 
choice  under  the  American  system, 
and  equally  as  important,  is  that 
the  right  to  own  property  is  recog- 
nized and  protected.  What  a  man 
legitimately  and  lawfully  acquires 
belongs  to  him.  In  spite  of  the 
fact  that  many  feel  rebellious  at  the 
tremendous  sums  which  are  si- 
phoned off  by  Government  in  the 
form  of  taxes,  which  have  reached 
oppressive  proportions,  the  right  to 
own  property  is  recognized  and  pro- 
tected. It  was  an  absolute  truth  in 
years   gone   by   and   would   be   an 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


139 


absolute  truth  today,  except  for  our 
deep  involvement  in  terribly  costly 
world  politics.  This  situation  is 
not  the  fault  of  the  American  sys- 
tem, but  is  partly  the  result  of  the 
dangerous  times  in  which  we  live, 
and,  in  part,  due  to  the  pursuit  of 
unwise  policies  which  have  made 
governmental  expenditures  need- 
lessly high.  But  after  all  of  our 
complaints  and  dissatisfactions  are 
voiced,  we  still,  in  the  United 
States,  control  our  private  destinies 
and  may  use  what  is  ours  for  any 
lawful  purpose  which  we  select. 

Free  Rein  to  Private  Enterprise 

The  basic  and  fundamental  phi- 
losophy of  Government  under  the 
Constitution,  even  today  with  its 
many  controls  exercised  over  the 
economic  life  of  the  citizens,  is  to 
permit  free  rein  to  private  initi- 
ative. Most  Government  controls 
over  farmer,  businessman,  or  indus- 
try have  been  brought  about  either 
to  curb  selfish  and  ruthless  practices, 
or  because  of  the  selfish  demands  of 
special  groups  for  special  favor.  Our 
national  life  would  be  healthier  and 
more  prosperous  without  such  con- 
trols or  special  favors,  but  so  long  as 
there  are  those  who  refuse  to  live 
by  the  rules  of  conscience,  part  of 
our  potential  strength  will  be  divert- 
ed into  unproductive  channels. 

Accomplishments  Under  the 
Free  Enterprise  System 

In  spite  of  acknowledged  faults 
and  defects,  what  has  free  enterprise 
accomplished  in  America? 

One  of  the  most  dramatic,  if  not 
indeed  the  most  dramatic  illustra- 
tion of  the  effect  of  the  free  enter- 
prise   system     upon     the     United 


States,  is  seen  in  the  awe-inspiring 
changes  which  have  occurred  in  the 
economic  conditions  under  which 
we  live.  Another  and  equally  dra- 
matic illustration  of  this  same  effect 
is  the  manner  in  which  the  work  of 
our  country  is  done  now  contrasted 
with  the  way  in  which  it  was  done 
at  the  beginning  of  our  history.  Dis- 
cussing the  latter  first,  it  is  a  fact 
that  until  the  Civil  War  more  than 
one  half  of  the  work  energy  required 
to  accomplish  this  work  was  sup- 
plied by  the  muscle  and  brawn  of 
men  and  animals.  It  has  been  esti- 
mated that  by  i960  less  than  two 
and  one  half  per  cent  of  this  work 
energy  will  come  from  those  sourc- 
es. In  the  meantime,  the  machine 
has  taken  over  and,  by  the  use  and 
application  of  the  energy  supplied 
by  coal,  petroleum,  and  electricity, 
the  work  of  our  country  is  done  in 
almost  one  half  the  time  required 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War. 
The  average  work  week  then  was 
about  seventy  hours;  it  is  now  forty- 
three.  This  change  from  the  use  of 
animal  and  human  energy  to  ma- 
chines has  made  the  United  States 
an  industrial  giant,  changing  her 
from  a  rural  agricultural  Nation  to 
the  position  of  leading  the  remain- 
der of  the  world  in  output  and  pro- 
duction. 

While  this  change  to  industrial- 
ization has  occurred,  the  productiv- 
ity of  the  workman  has  continually 
gone  up  until  today  a  worker  in 
about  one  half  the  time  produces 
about  five  times  as  much  as  the 
same  workman  was  able  to  produce 
a  hundred  years  ago.  In  1850  the 
average  worker  produced  about 
twenty-seven  cents  worth  of  goods 
per  hour.     He  now  produces  one 


140 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


A  Perry  Picture — Copyright  by  Eugene  A.  Perry 

THE  CAPITOL,  WASHINGTON 


dollar    and    forty    cents    worth    of 
goods  per  hour. 

Not  only  is  this  true  but,  in  addi- 
tion, there  has  been  a  net  increase 
in  the  output  of  goods  and  services 
which  is  twenty-nine  times  greater 
than  it  was  in  1850.  This  has  been 
done  with  the  expenditure  of  much 
less  time  and  with  a  population 
which  has  increased  only  six  times 
in  the  same  period. 

Improved  Condition  oi  Worker 
in  the  United  States 

Let  us  now  consider  for  a  mo- 
ment the  effect  all  this  change  has 
had  upon  the  worker.  We  have 
already  mentioned  the  number  of 
hours  which  he  worked.  By  1900 
the  average  work  week  was  about 
sixty  hours.  It  was  six  days  a  week, 
ten  hours  per  day.  In  terms  of 
wages  it  has  been  estimated  that 
women  workers  probably  did  not 


average  more  than  $280  per  year. 
The  wages  of  unskilled  workers  was 
about  $400  per  year.  This  figure 
has  steadily  risen  so  that  now  the 
average  worker  at  constant  dollar 
values  earns  twice  as  much  as  he 
did  twenty-five  years  ago.  Twenty- 
five  years  ago,  two-thirds  of  Ameri- 
can families  did  not  have  sufficient 
to  meet  normal  requirements  for 
basic  necessities.  Now  two-thirds  of 
American  families  enjoy  a  surplus 
over  and  above  such  needs.  The  free 
enterprise  system  has  enormously 
increased  the  wealth  of  America. 
New  inventions  and  technologies 
have  led  to  the  creation  of  whole 
new  industries.  Let  us  take  the 
automobile  for  an  example.  This  in- 
vention is  directly  responsible  for 
the  growth  of  the  rubber  industry, 
the  building  of  super-highways,  the 
stimulus  to  the  use  of  petroleum 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


141 


products,  which  is  responsible  for 
the  oil  and  gas  industry.  This  is 
only  one  example.  This  same  pro- 
cess has  been  repeated  countless 
times  in  other  industries. 

Alleviation  oi  Need  and  Hunger 

Finally  America  has  provided  the 
laboratory  demonstration  of  what 
can  be  accomplished  to  relieve  hu- 
man suffering  and  need  and  has  giv- 
en the  emphatic  denial  to  the 
theory  of  Malthus  who  postulated 
that  the  world  is  destined  always  to 
know  hunger  and  privation;  that 
population  increase  in  any  country 
will  ever  keep  ahead  of  the  ability 
of  the  world  to  supply  its  basic  re- 
quirements of  food  and  energy.  This 
theory  was  propounded  near  the 
end  of  the  eighteenth  century  and, 
based  upon  the  past  history  of  the 
world  at  that  time,  seemed  conclu- 
sively true.  The  American  system 
has  demonstrated  the  seemingly 
paradoxical  truth  that  by  the  appli- 
cation of  modern  technology,  na- 
tions may  increase  their  productivity 
far  in  excess  of  population  increas- 
es. 

In  all  the  history  of  the  past,  the 
vast  majority  of  human  beings  have 
lived  and  died  in  poverty  and  slav- 
ery. It  was  not  until  the  advent  of 
America  that  this  tragic  trend  in 
human  existence  was  reversed. 

Material  and  Spiritual  Progress 

As  great  and  necessary  as  the  vast 
changes  and  betterments  in  the  eco- 
nomic sense  undeniably  are,  there 
are  even  more  important  values 
which  have  accrued  to  us  as  Ameri- 
cans as  a  fruit  of  freedom  under  the 
Constitution. 

The  fruits  of  freedom  have  pro- 
duced in  the  United  States,  to  the 


extent  not  known  before,  an  atti- 
tude of  mind  and  spirit  which  has 
added  immeasureably  to  the  value 
of  the  human  personality.  The  great 
pronouncements  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  and  the  Constitu- 
tion in  recognition  of  human  rights 
have  been,  in  no  small  measure,  re- 
sponsible for  the  growth  of  the 
United  States.  Lofty  ideals  and 
noble  sentiments  must  inevitably 
produce  their  effect,  if  believed  and 
practiced  until  they  become  a  part 
of  the  society  in  which  they  find 
recognition  and  acceptance.  Ideals 
of  liberty  and  freedom  may  not 
have  had  their  origin  in  this  coun- 
try—but here  they  have  taken  deep 
root  and  have  become  strong  and 
vigorous. 

In  this  atmosphere  the  spirit  of 
men  has  found  nourishment.  Men 
have  been  encouraged  to  dream 
great  dreams  and  to  accomplish— 
knowing  that  their  efforts  would 
not  be  destroyed  nor  thwarted  by 
other  men  nor  by  a  government  un- 
friendly to  individual  initiative. 

Eight  Reasons  for  Growth 
and  Development 

In  conclusion,  the  following  eight 
reasons  are  submitted  as  controlling 
in  the  growth  and  development  of 
America  into  the  greatest  Nation 
the  world  has  ever  known : 

i.  Great  natural  resources 

2.  A  plentiful  labor  supply 

3.  Surplus  capital 

4.  Great  demand  for  manufactured 
goods  and  services  encouraging  and  stimu- 
lating the  growth  of  industry  and  busi- 
ness 

5.  Labor-saving  devices  and   machinery 

6.  Cheap   transportation 

7.  Friendly  Government,  leaving  eco- 
nomic development  largely  in  private 
hands 


142 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— FEBRUARY  1956 


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8.  The  non-existence  of  tariffs  and  bar- 
riers to  trade  in  a  vast  territory  permit- 
ting the  free  movement  of  goods  and 
trade  from  state  to  state. 

Of  all  the  foregoing,  by  far  the 
most  important  is  number  seven. 
Without  that  friendly  Government, 
the  other  factors  would  never  have 
had  full  scope  and  opportunity  to 
affect  the  growth  of  the  United 
States.  The  Constitution  forms  the 
background  of  that  Government, 
and  without  it,  it  is  inconceivable 
that  the  United  States  would  ever 
have  become  what  it  is  today. 

We  all  have  a  great  stake  in 
America.  Our  well-being  and  hap- 
piness and  that  of  our  children  de- 
pend upon  the  preservation  of  her 
ideals  and  institutions.  The  United 
States  can  endure  as  long  as  her 
people  retain  those  ideals  and  insti- 
tutions and  so  long  as  the  people  of 
the  United  States  are  imbued  with 
moral  sense  and  courage  and  live 
righteously  the  principles  laid  down 
as  the  conditions  for  her  continued 
existence. 

In  Conclusion 

The  fruits  of  freedom  are  con- 
crete and  real.  At  the  conclusion 
of  this  three-year  study  of  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States  of 
America,  every  Relief  Society  wom- 
an should  be  keenly  aware  of  the 
rights  and  privileges  which  the  Con- 
stitution guarantees.  She  should 
have  no  doubt  about  it  being  a 
divinely  inspired  document,  framed 
by  wise  men  ".  .  .  raised  up  unto 
this  very  purpose  .  .  ."  by  the  Lord 
(D.  &  C.  101:80). 

Every  Relief  Society  member 
should  be  reverently  grateful  for  the 
privilege  of  living  where  the  bless- 
ings  of   freedom   may  be   enjoyed 


LESSON  DEPARTMENT 


143 


daily  and  where  she  has  the  voting 
franchise  so  that  she  may  use  her 
influence  in  preserving  these  free- 
doms. Moreover,  she  should  feel 
that  she  has  a  definite  responsibility 
to  assist  in  the  safeguarding  of  the 
Constitution.  She  should  demon- 
strate this  feeling  of  responsibility 
by  going  to  the  polls  on  each  elec- 
tion day  to  cast  her  individual  vote. 
She  should  be  aware  of  her  oppor- 
tunity to  further  the  cause  of  free- 
dom by  speaking  constructively  of 
the  Constitution,  and  should  en- 
deavor to  keep  herself  alert  to,  at 
least,  the  major  issues  confronting 
the  Government.  Last,  but  by  no 
means  least,  she  should  avail  her- 
self, as  a  Latter-day  Saint  mother,  of 
every  opportunity  to  instill  in  her 
children  and  maintain  in  her  home, 
a  love  and  respect  for  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States,  and  an 
appreciation  for  life  in  this  choice 
and  promised  land. 

Questions  on  the  Lesson 

i.  What  is  the  prevailing  economic 
system  in  America? 

2.  What  does  "free  enterprise"  or  the 
"American  Way"  mean? 

3.  Are  property  rights  important? 
Why? 

4.  What  is  the  attitude  of  Government 
in  America  towards  private  initiative?  Is 
this  the  correct  attitude?  Why? 

5.  What  has  been  the  effect  of  the 
"free  enterprise  system"  in  the  United 
States?  Upon  the  individual?  Upon  the 
creation  of  a  strong  Nation? 

6.  In  what  other  country  prior  to  the 
Constitution  were  conditions  comparable 
to  the  United  States  since  the  Constitu- 
tion was  adopted? 

7.  What  has  been  the  most  important 
result  of  freedom  under  the  Constitution? 

8.  Name  the  factors  which  have  made 
the  United  States  the  greatest  Nation  the 
world  has  ever  seen? 

9.  Which  has  been  the  most  impor- 
tant? 


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Hymns  By  Seldon  N.  Heaps 
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Come,  Come  Ye  Saints 

Gently  Raise  the  Sacred  Strain 

High  On  the  Mountain  Top 

How    Great    the    Wisdom    and    the 

Love 

Joseph  Smith's  First  Prayer 

Oh,   My   Father 

O  Ye  Mountains  High 

Prayer   Is  the   Soul's   Sincere   Desire 

Redeemer  of  Israel 

Shine   On 

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With  spotless  walls  and  doors, 
With  ceilings  light  and  windows  bright 
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My  little  children  in  their  glee 
Go  running  in  and  out 
Leaving  footprints  on  the  floor 
And  fingerprints  about. 

But  once,  a  little  child,  I  ran 
On  Mother's  shining  floors 
Leaving  footprints  through  her  house 
And  hand  prints  on  her  doors. 

Each  room  was  laid  in  tenderness 
And  sweetness  filled  the  air; 
The  doors  were  made  of  friendliness 
The  walls  of  loving  care. 

There  was  goodness  in  the  cupboards 
A  welcome  at  our  door, 
Kindness  on  the  hearthstone; 
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Through  day's  wide  blue  or  dim  twilight, 

His  space-ship  heads  for  distant  star 

But  lands  at  Grandma's  cooky  jar! 


Page  144 


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"...  ■■■'.  .         ..     .'-. 


MARCH    1956 


■   - 


"M- 


W 


*,/> 


Jxiridi 


ness 


Jane  B.  Wundeilich 

Like  the  gentle  gift  of  shade  where  strong  trees  grow, 

Whose  pliant  green  deflects  gold-pinioned  heat, 

Whose  branching  promise  beckons  dusty  feet, 

And  punctuates  their  wayworn  come  and  go; 

Or,  like  the  firelight's  all-inclusive  glow, 

Whose  welcome  conquers  wind-wild  cold  and  sleet, 

Whose  cordial  hearth  enfolds  to  snug  retreat, 

And  beautifies  the  silent  drift  of  snow; 

So  a  brief  beneficence  may  fall, 

May  nourish  roots,  deep  in  arid  need, 

Releasing  tenderness  concealed  in  seed 

To  lift  its  valiant  foliage  over  all, 

And  bloom  in  thumb-frayed  memories,  half  hidden, 

Spilling  fragrance  everywhere  —  unbidden. 


The  Cover:  Parana  Pines,  Brazil,  Photograph  by  Asael  T.  Sorensen 

Frontispiece:   Lonely  Vista  in  Craters  of  the  Moon  National  Monument,  Idaho 
Photograph  by  Willard  Luce 

Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 

Page  145 


Qjrom    I  Lear  and  cjc 


ar 


As  the  year  is  soon  coming  to  a  close, 
I  want  to  thank  yon  for  the  lovely  Maga- 
zine for  1955,  with  a  wish  for  continued 
success  in  1956. 

— Margaret  A.  Anderson 

Richmond,  Utah 

I  have  found  so  much  enjoyment  in 
The  Relief  Society  Magazine  every  month 
since  I  have  been  receiving  it.  I  read  it 
from  cover  to  cover,  and  I  am  so  thank- 
ful to  my  good  daughter-in-law,  Mrs. 
Laura  Huffman,  El  Paso,  Texas,  for  send- 
ing it  to  me  for  my  birthday. 

— Mrs.  Alva  Huffman 

Hotchkiss,  Colorado 

Although  the  Magazine  is  a  woman's 
book,  I  wish  to  congratulate  you  on  its 
splendid  contents.  Whenever  I  have  a 
spare  moment  and  there  is  a  Relief  Society 
Magazine  near,  I  relax  and  read  it  and 
enjoy  the  wonderful  stories.  I  have  never 
been  disappointed  in  them. 
-Elder  J.  Elliott 

St.  Michaels,  Arizona 

I  wish  to  express  my  appreciation  for 
The  Relief  Society  Magazine.  We  have 
enjoyed  reading  it  each  month  from  cover 
to  cover.  When  I  read  the  From  Near 
and  Far  messages,  it  is  very  interesting  to 
know  what  the  Magazine  means  to  every- 
one. It  is  a  Magazine  with  perfect  read- 
ing material  for  every  L.  D.  S.  family,  and 
for  all  non-members,  as  well.  The  Maga- 
zine has  been  a  long-time  reading  com- 
panion in  my  home,  as  I  joined  the  Re- 
lief Society  about  1930.  I  have  enjoyed 
the  faith-promoting  stories,  the  inspiring 
editorials,  and  the  lessons  have  been  an 
everyday  education  in  rearing  my  children. 
-Ruth  Marriott 

Roberts,  Idaho 

I  do  enjoy  the  Magazine  very  much — 
the  stories,  poems,  and  lesson  material. 
Sometimes  it  seems  that  the  Magazine  is 
a  direct  answer  to  my  problems.  It  gives 
me  so  much  to  think  about  when  I  am 
doing  the  housework  or  driving  the  trac- 
tor. 

-Mrs.  Mildred  Jensen  Johnson 

Rexburg,  Idaho 
Page  146 


We  three  (Mrs.  Joan  Cannon,  Mrs. 
Mary  Glidwell,  and  Mrs.  Lillie  Newton) 
are  the  membership  of  our  Relief  Society. 
We  have  our  lesson  each  Tuesday,  and 
occasionally  we  enjoy  a  visitor.  We  en- 
joy such  a  sweet  spirit  in  our  meetings. 
Sister  Cannon  has  been  a  member  of  the 
Church  about  ten  years,  and  my  sister 
and  I  have  been  members  thirteen  and 
a  half  months.  We  hope  this  year, 
through  our  welfare  work,  to  inspire  an 
interest  in  Relief  Society,  as  well  as  giv- 
ing us  a  chance  to  tell  people  about  the 
Church.  Thank  you  for  such  a  wonder- 
ful inspirational  Magazine. 

— Mrs.  Lillie  Newton 

Milan,  Missouri 

The  response  we  receive  to  the  Maga- 
zine is  tremendous.  I  just  received  a  let- 
ter from  the  Rio  Cuarto  Relief  Society 
requesting  a  copy  each  month,  because 
they  are  sure  that  one  of  the  sisters  reads 
enough  English  so  that  she  can  translate 
the  contents  for  the  other  sisters.  We  re- 
ceive enough  copies  each  month  so  that 
we  can  distribute  them  throughout  the 
mission,  and  the  sisters  enjoy  them  very 
much.  During  every  visit  I  make  some- 
one is  sure  to  comment  on  something  she 
has  read  in  the  Magazine. 

— Amy  Y.  Valentine 

President 

Argentine   Mission 
Relief  Society 
Buenos  Aires,  Argentina 

I  have  been  taking  The  Relief  Society 
Magazine  for  about  a  year  and  a  half  and 
do  enjoy  it  very  much.  I  can't  get  to 
Relief  Society  meetings,  as  I  have  to 
work,  but  I  can  keep  up  with  the  lessons 
and  feel  more  a  part  of  it  through  the 
Magazine. 

— Margaret  Kearney 

Idaho  Falls,  Idaho 

The  Relief  Society  Magazine  brings 
much  joy  into  our  home  each  month.  I 
feel  it  is  the  means  by  which  hundreds  of 
women  throughout  the  Church  can  give 
expression  to  their  thoughts  and  talents. 
—Ruth  W.  Heiner 

Heyburn,  Idaho 


THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 

Monthly  Publication   of  the  Relief    Society   of   The   Church   of   Jesus  Christ  of   Latter-day    Saints 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  GENERAL  BOARD 
Belle   S.  Spafford         - President 

Marianne   C.   Sharp         - -         First   Counselor 

Velma  N.  Simonsen  -  Second  Counselor 

Margaret  C.  Pickering       -----  Secretary-Treasurer 

Anna  B.  Hart  Leone  O.  Jacobs  Mildred  B.  Eyring  Winniefred  S. 

Edith  S.  Elliott  Louise  W.  Madsen  Helen  W.  Anderson  Manwaring 

Florence  J.  Madsen  Aleine  M.  Young  Gladys  S.  Boyer  Elna  P.  Haymond 

Leone  G.  Layton  Josie  B.  Bay  Charlotte  A.  Larsen  Annie  M.  Ellsworth 

Blanche  B.  Stoddard  Christine  H.  Robinson     Edith  P.  Backman  Mary  R.    Young 

Evon  W.  Peterson  Alberta  H.  Christensen 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 
Editor  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -    .       -  --  Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Associate  Editor  ---------       Vesta  P.  Crawford 

General  Manager  .-.- Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.  43  MARCH  1956  No.  3 


e 


on  tents 


SPECIAL  FEATURES 

"Words  to  Live  By"  Josie  B.  Bay  148 

The  Brazilian  Mission  Preston  R.   Nibley  158 

How  We  Conduct  the  Family  Hour  in  Our  Home  Helen  S.   Gardner   160 

Getting  New  Subscriptions  and  Renewals  for  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  Lucy  Horman  167 

Strange  Land  of  the  Chiricahuas  Nell  Murbarger  180 

The  Preparation  and  Serving  of  Food  for  Large  Gatherings  Frank  D.  Arnold   183 

Put  on  Your  Gay  Sunbonnet Jennie   E.   Graham  206 

The  Home  on  the  Hill  Alyce  O.  Nelson  208 

FICTION 

Room  for  Nancy— Third  Prize  Story  Edith  Larson   151 

The  Ice-Cream  Pie  Florence  B.  Dunford  163 

There  Is  Still  Time— Chapter  2  Margery  S.  Stewart  195 

GENERAL  FEATURES 

From  Near  and  Far  146 

Sixty  Years   Ago  1-7Q 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.  Cannon  171 

Editorial:  The  Constitution  of  Relief  Society  Marianne  C.  Sharp  172 

In  Memoriam — Charlotte  Owens  Sackett   174 

Notes  to  the  Field:  Organizations   and  Reorganizations   of  Stake  and  Mission 

Relief  Societies  for  1955   174 

Index  for  1955  Relief  Society  Magazine  Available  176 

Announcing  the  Special  April  Short  Story  Issue  176 

Notes  From  the  Field:  Relief  Society  Activities  Margaret  C.  Pickering  200 

FEATURES  FOR  THE  HOME 

Springtime  Is  Fun-Time  Helen  B.  Morris  177 

Recipes  From  Brazil  Asael  T.    Sorensen  178 

Life  Is  Like  a  Pattern  Annie  S.  W.   Gould  179 

Let's  Have  Fish  Winnifred  C.  Jardine  186 

The  Rugged  Rug  Hookers   Geneve   Hourihan  190 

Garden  Accents  Elizabeth  Williamson  192 

Multiple  Hobbies  Help  Mary   Hilda  Smith  to  Make   Others  Happy  194 

POETRY 

Kindness— Frontispiece  Jane  B.   Wunderlich  145 

Contemplation   Evelyn    Fjeldsted  150 

Cryptic  Tokens  Eva  W.    Wangsgaard  157 

Desert  Yearnings  Annie  Atkin  Tanner  162 

Temple  Square  Leone  E.    McCune   173 

Comforter  Catherine  B.   Bowles   179 

First  Herald Linnie   F.    Robinson  182 

Honeymoon  Salad  Francelia   Goddard  185 

Where  Sweets  Are Maryhale  Woolsey  194 

Comfort  Ida  Isaacson  205 

Return Christie    Lund    Coles  207 

Helping  Hands Delia  Adams  Leitner  207 

PUBLISHED  MONTHLY  BY  THE  GENERAL  BOARD  OF  RELIEF  SOCIETY 

Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah,  Phone  EM  4-2511  ;  Sub- 
scriptions 246;  Editorial  Dept.  245.  Subscription  Price:  $1.50  a  year;  foreign,  $2.00  a  year, 
payable  in  advance.  Single  copy,  15c.  The  Magazine  is  not  sent  after  subscription  expires.  No 
back  numbers  can  be  supplied.  Renew  promptly  so  that  no  copies  will  be  missed.  Report  change 
of  address  at  once,  giving  old  and  new  address. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  February  18,  1914,  at  the  Post  Office,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  under 
the  Act  of  March  3,  1879.  Acceptance  for  mailing  at  special  rate  of  postage  provided  for  in 
section  1103,  Act  of  October  8,  1917,  authorized  June  29,  1918.  Manuscripts  will  not  be  returned 
unless  return  postage  is  enclosed.  Rejected  manuscripts  will  be  retained  for  six  months  only. 
The  Magazine  is  not  responsible  for  unsolicited  manuscripts. 

Page  147 


"Words  to  Live  By" 

Josie  B.  Bay 
Member,  General  Board  of  Relief  Society 

[Address  Delivered   at   the  Annual  General   Relief  Society   Conference, 

September  29,  1955] 


MANY  times  I  have  sat  in  the 
congregation  in  this  build- 
ing and  listened  to  speak- 
ers from  this  pulpit,  and  many  times 
I  have  thought,  what  a  wonderful 
privilege  to  be  called  to  speak  in 
this  great  Tabernacle— never  dream- 
ing that  such  an  experience  would 
ever  come  to  me.  Now  that  the 
call  has  come,  I  stand  before  you 
greatly  humbled,  very  frightened, 
but  with  great  appreciation  in  my 
heart  for  the  blessings  of  the  Lord 
unto  me. 

From  this  pulpit  I  have  heard 
expressed:  words  of  wisdom;  words 
of  comfort;  words  of  caution;  words 
of  truth  and  inspiration;  beautiful 
words  to  live  by;  words  which  have 
greatly  influenced  my  life,  spoken 
by  good  and  wise  men  and  women 
whom  the  Lord  has  called  to  direct 
us.  From  their  remembered  teach- 
ings I  am  caused  to  reflect,  how 
great  is  the  power  of  words  in  the 
lives  of  persons  everywhere!  Anna 
Hempstead  Branch  said: 

God  wove  a  web  of  loveliness, 
Of  clouds,  stars,  and  birds, 

But  made  not  anything  at  all 
So  beautiful  as  words. 

The  beauty  and  wisdom  expressed 
in  the  words  of  the  prophets,  spoken 
from  this  pulpit  or  published  for 
our  reading  pleasure,  if  applied,  will 
not  only  bring  happiness  into  our 
lives,  but  will  give  us  strength  to 
meet  the  obstacles  we  encounter. 

Page  148 


To  find  happiness  seems  to  be 
the  paramount  object  in  this  life; 
everyone  is  seeking  for  it.  A  prophet 
of  the  Lord,  President  Heber  }. 
Grant,  in  one  of  his  written  mes- 
sages tells  us  how  to  achieve  happi- 
ness.   These  are  his  words: 

The  real  secret  of  happiness  in  life  and 
the  way  in  which  to  prepare  ourselves  for 
the  hereafter  is  service  .... 

Service  is  the  true  key,  I  believe,  to 
happiness  ....  When  we  perform  any 
acts  of  kindness,  they  bring  a  feeling  of 
satisfaction  and  pleasure  into  our 
hearts  .... 

It  is  a  God-given  law  that  in  proportion 
to  the  service  we  give  .  .  .  we  shall  grow 
in  the  grace  of  God  and  in  the  love  of 
God,  and  we  shall  grow  in  accomplishing 
the  purposes  of  our  being  placed  here  on 
the  earth  (Gospel  Standards,  Heber  J. 
Grant,  pp.  186-87). 

How  well  have  we  remembered 
and  applied  in  our  lives  the  words 
of  President  George  Albert  Smith 
in  his  conference  address,  October 
1,  1948: 

There  isn't  anything  that  enriches  our 
lives  like  an  understanding  of  the  pur- 
poses of  life  and  the  ability  to  live  the 
gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  All  happiness 
worthy  of  the  name  comes  to  us  when  we 
observe  the  teachings  of  our  Lord  and 
live  to  be  worthy  to  be  his  sons  and 
daughters  .... 

I  want  to  say  that  the  happiest  people 
in  all  the  world  are  those  who  obey  the 
counsel  of  our  Heavenly  Father. 

How  happy  our  lives  will  be  if  we 
listen  to  and  live  by  the  words  of 


'WORDS  TO  LIVE  BY' 


149 


the  present-day  prophet,  President 
David  O.  McKay.  These  are  but 
a  few  of  his  many  inspirational 
words  spoken  for  our  guidance: 

Choosing  the  right  with  unvarying  and 
unwavering  determination,  resisting  temp- 
tations from  within  and  from  without, 
cheerfulness  in  the  face  of  difficulties  and 
experiences,  reverence  for  God  and  re- 
spect for  your  fellow  men,  willingness  to 
assist  in  the  establishment  of  the  kingdom 
of  God  —  these,  though  you  might  miss 
some  of  the  emoluments  of  the  world,  will, 
bring  peace  and  happiness  to  your  soul, 
and  through  obedience  to  the  principles 
and  ordinances  of  the  gospel,  bring  im- 
mortality and  eternal  life  (Gospel  Ideals, 
David  O.  McKay,  page  491). 

What  strength  there  is  in  the 
words  of  the  prophets,  living  words 
which  give  to  us  inspiration,  cour- 
age, and  confidence.  Words  that 
awaken  within  us  a  desire  to  live  a 
better  life;  to  extend  a  helping  hand 
to  those  in  need  and  to  serve  the 
Lord  through  keeping  his  com- 
mandments. 

Unlimited  is  the  inspirational 
power  of  the  words  of  the  Scrip- 
tures; they  are  creative  and  dynamic 
words  which  can  change  the  life  of 
everyone  who  reads  them  and  Jives 
by  them. 

Comforting  indeed  are  the  words 
of  the  Savior,  recorded  in  Matthew: 

Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour  and 
are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest. 

Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of 
me;  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart:  and 
ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls. 

For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is 
light  (Mt.  11:28-30). 

Brother  Bryant  S.  Hinckley  has 
said: 

These  words  have  solaced  the  troubled 
hearts  of  the  world  and  given  hope  and 
cheer  to  those  who  are  heavy  laden  as  no 


other  words  ever  have  done.  They  carry 
the  spirit  and  beauty  of  the  glorious  mes- 
sage of  the  Redeemer  of  the  world  (Not 
By  Bread  Alone,  Bryant  S.  Hinckley,  page 

34). 

The  words  of  the  Scriptures  are 
so  valuable  in  our  lives,  let  us  read 
them,  study  them,  and  live  by  them. 

Valuable,  too,  in  building  a  hap- 
py life  are  the  words  of  the  great 
writers  and  poets  —  men  and  wom- 
en who  through  words  express  the 
beauty  and  worthwhileness  of  life. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  words  of 
Thomas  Carlyle.  Words  taught  to 
me  when  just  a  child.  These  words 
have  stayed  with  me  all  my  life  and 
many  times  with  the  beginning  of 
a  new  day  I  find  them  running 
through  my  mind: 

So  here  hath  been  dawning 

Another  blue  Day: 
Think,  wilt  thou  let  it 

Slip  useless  away? 

Out  of  Eternity 

This  new  Day  is  born. 
Into  Eternity, 

At  night,  will  return. 

Behold  it  afore  time 

No  eye  ever  did: 
So  soon  it  forever 

From  all  eyes  is  hid. 

Here  hath  been  dawning 

Another  blue  Day: 
Think,  wilt  thou  let  it 

Slip  useless  away? 

These  words  help  us  to  realize 
more  fully  the  value  of  time  and 
the  need  to  make  the  most  of  each 
precious  moment.  It  was  Benjamin 
Franklin  who  said: 

Dost  thou  love  life?  Then  do  not 
squander  time  for  that  is  the  stuff  life  is 
made  of. 

In  closing,  may  I  remind  you  of 


150 

the  words  of  Alma,  words  which  we 
have  all  read  and  loved  when  read- 
ing The  Book  of  Mormon.  Truly 
words  to  live  by: 

And  now  I  would  that  ye  should  be 
humble,  and  be  submissive  and  gentle; 
easy  to  be  entreated;  full  of  patience  and 
long-suffering;  being  temperate  in  all 
things;  being  diligent  in  keeping  the  com- 
mandments of  God  at  all  times;  asking 
for  whatsoever  things  ye   stand  in   need, 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 

both  spiritual  and  temporal;  always  return- 
ing thanks  unto  God  for  whatsoever  things 
ye  do  receive. 

And  see  that  ye  have  faith,  hope,  and 
charity,  and  then  ye  will  always  abound 
in  good  works   (Alma  7:23-24). 

May  the  Lord  grant  unto  us 
strength  to  live  by  his  word,  and 
may  there  be  reflected  in  us  the 
beauty  and  truth  which  we  gain  by 
applying  all  things  good  into  our 
lives. 


K^ontemplatton 


Evelyn  Fjeldsted 

How  good  life  seems  to  be  —  how  swift 

Is  measured  time  when  one  must  leave 

The  things  one  cares  so  deeply  for. 

How  quietly  the  hours  weave 

The  warp  and  weft  of  earthly  scenes — 

Memories,  renditions  of  the  past; 

And  swifter  than  the  weaver's  shuttle  were 

The  endless  dramas  that  were  cast. 

How  strangely  old  familiar  paths 

Loom  in  silent  unreality, 

How  kindly  is  the  night's  intent 

To  hide  a  sorrow's  clarity. 

In  earth's  harbor  one  would  ever  stay 

Where  thought  is  anchored  to  the  known. 

Like  ships  adrift,  those  who  embark 

Must  sail  the  unexplored  alone. 

But  once  to  live,  is  this  not  proof 

That  everything  —  that  even  hope 

Can  live  again?     Believing  this, 

One  sees  beyond  the  present  scope. 

A  new  life  is  revealed  when  seas  are  crossed 

And  reassurance  brings  repose. 

The  stillness  of  the  deepening  night 

Brings  contemplation  to  a  close, 

And  this  is  gained  —  this  new-found  thought- 

That  death  may  give  what  life  could  not. 


cJhtrd  crrtze  Story 

Jtnnual  IRelief  Society  Snort  Story  (contest 

Room  for  Nancy 

Edith  Larson 


ADDING  her  "Amen"  to  the 
others,  Mary  raised  her  head 
and  looked  around  the  break- 
fast table.  Usually  it  warmed  her 
heart  to  see  her  family  together. 

Richard,  with  graying  hair  mak- 
ing him  more  distinguished  looking 
than  ever,  was  turning  his  attention 
to  his  bacon  and  eggs.  Susan  was 
dressed  for  her  office  job,  and  the 
twins  Joy  and  Jay  wore  the  garb  of 
the  high  school  crowd.  Seven-year- 
old  Dickie  was  scrubbed  and  shin- 
ing as  far  as  his  ears,  but  his  hair 
stood  on.  end,  bed-tousled,  and  his 
neck  and  arms  still  bore  the  dirt  of 
last  night's  play. 

Only  Nancy  was  missing,  and  she 
might  arrive  with  baby  Larry  any 
minute  now.  Arrive,  expecting  a 
welcome  that  wasn't  there.  Mary's 
heart  twisted  at  the  thought. 

"Have  you  moved  your  things 
back  into  Joy's  room?"  she  asked 
Susan. 

"Yes,  Mother,"  Susan  answered 
without  raising  her  eyes. 

Mary  suppressed  a  sigh.  It  was 
only  natural  that  Susan  should  be 
reluctant  to  give  up  the  room  that 
had  been  hers  for  just  one  short 
year. 

"My  room?"  Joy  exclaimed,  mak- 
ing no  effort  to  hide  her  bitterness. 
"When  Susan  and  I  bunked  to- 
gether before,  it  was  Susan's  room." 

"This  is  only  temporary,  dear," 
Mary  assured  her. 


.■:■■-■:■•:     ■-.;  -■:■■■■ 


EDITH  LARSON 

"Two  years  doesn't  sound  very 
temporary  to  me,"  Joy  muttered. 

"Joy,  that  will  do,"  her  father 
said  in  the  tone  all  of  the  children 
respected. 

Yet  Mary  knew  that  even  he  was 
not  happy  about  Nancy's  return. 
He  would  welcome  her,  of  course; 
but  just  last  night,  in  the  privacy 
of  their  bedroom,  he  had  spoken 
wistfully  of  that  extra  bedroom  they 
had  never  been  able  to  afford.  And 
he  had  mentioned  Nancy's  scornful 
attitude  toward  young  couples  who 
went  home  to  the  folks  at  the  first 
crisis  in  their  marriage. 

Mary  had  pointed  out  to  Richard 
that   this  was   hardly   the   type   of 

Page  151 


152 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


crisis  Nancy  had  meant.  Her  hus- 
band Lowell  was  going  on  a  mis- 
sion. Both  families  wanted  him  to 
go,  but  it  would  be  impractical  to 
finance  him  and  keep  up  a  separate 
home  for  Nancy  and  the  baby.  Hav- 
ing Nancy  rent  their  little  house 
and  bring  the  baby  home  was  the 
obvious  solution. 

It  had  seemed  such  a  natural  so- 
lution to  Mary  that  she  still  could 
not  understand  the  attitude  of  the 
other  children.  How  would  Nancy 
feel  when  she  sensed  their  reluc- 
tance to  make  room  for  her?  Sensi- 
tive Nancy,  who  was  so  quick  to 
freeze  up  on  the  inside  at  the  least 
slight. 

Inwardly  Mary  was  seething— and 
hurt.  How  little  one  actually  knew 
one's  own  children!  She  had  always 
believed  that  she  was  rearing  hers 
to  face  facts  and  make  right  de- 
cisions.   Where  had  she  failed? 

'Two  years  is  a  lifetime/'  Susan 
dropped  into  the  silence. 

Poor  Susan,  thought  Mary.  She 
had  more  excuse  than  the  others. 
Since  Bert  had  convinced  her  that 
they  should  wait  until  his  Navy  en- 
listment was  over  before  being  mar- 
ried, time  had  stood  still  for  Susan. 
Having  Nancy  here  with  her  baby 
would  make  waiting  all  the  harder. 
Susan's  hunger  for  children  of  her 
own  was  a  constant  ache  in  Mary's 
heart,  but  still  she  wished  that 
Susan  could  see  Nancy's  problem  as 
clearly  as  her  own. 

"UAVING  Nancy  here  with  the 
baby  will  make  the  time  go 
faster  for  you,"  Richard  suggested. 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  it  will  be  nice  to 
have  Nancy  home,  but  I'm  not 
looking  forward  to  seeing  her  en- 


joy a  baby  when  I  can't  have  one 
myself." 

"Who's  going  to  enjoy  a  little 
monster?"  Dickie  asked. 

"Dickie!"  exclaimed  his  mother. 
"Your  little  nephew  Larry  is  not 
a  monster,  and  I  don't  want  to  hear 
you  call  him  that  again." 

"All  babies  are  monsters,"  Dickie 
asserted. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  idea, 
son?"  Richard  asked. 

"That's  what  Billy  calls  their  baby 
all  the  time.  And  he's  disgusted 
because  his  mother  is  going  to  have 
another  little  monster  almost  any 
day  now."  Dickie  paused  in  his 
task  of  spooning  oatmeal  just  long 
enough  to  explode  this  bombshell. 

Mary  and  Richard  exchanged 
glances.  When  a  non-Church  fam- 
ily from  the  East  moved  in  next 
door,  they  had  encouraged  Dickie 
to  be  friendly  with  the  little  boy 
his  age.  Now  they  often  wondered 
if  Dickie's  training  was  secure 
enough  to  withstand  the  influence 
Billy  seemed  to  have  on  his  think- 
ing. 

"Don't  let  Nancy  hear  you  talk 
like  that,  Dickie,"  Mary  warned. 
"Besides,  you'll  change  your  mind 
when  you  see  Larry." 

Though  she  spoke  confidently, 
Mary  wondered.  Dickie  had  been 
the  baby  so  long.  How  would  he 
react  when  another  little  boy  be- 
came the  center  of  attention? 

"It's  hard  enough  for  me  to  con- 
centrate when  all  that  wailing  gets 
started  next  door,"  Jay  put  in,  "with- 
out having  it  on  both  sides  of  me." 
Oh,  Jay,  Mary  thought,  not  you, 
too.  I  was  so  sure  I  could  depend 
on  my  quiet,  studious  one,  at  least. 
"Nancy  wrote  that  Larry  is  teeth- 


ROOM  FOR  NANCY 


153 


ing,  so  you  can  depend  on  plenty 
of  sound  effects/'  Joy  assured  him. 

"Oh,  I'm  counting  on  it  with  the 
greatest  of  joy.  If  a  few  minor  wails 
creep  into  my  chemical  formulas, 
I'm  sure  Mr.  Chapman  will  under- 
stand." 

Mr.  Chapman  had  taught  enough 
years  to  understand  almost  anything, 
Mary  knew.  She  wondered  if  he 
could  help  her  understand  the 
heavy  sarcasm  Jay  considered  a 
necessary  form  of  speech.  He  had 
never  used  it  before  he  started  run- 
ning around  with  the  pre-engineer- 
ing  crowd. 

"Your  mother  and  I  put  up  with 
enough  wailing  from  you,  son," 
Richard  told  him.  "I  guess  it  won't 
hurt  you  to  hear  a  little  from  Lar- 

"Yfoohoo!  Are  you  ^iU  at  break- 
1  fast?" 

"Nancy!"  Mary  was  on  her  feet 
and  started  toward  the  door  when 
Nancy  herself  appeared  with  Larry 
on  her  arm. 

"Hi,  family.  You  sure  look  good. 
Anything  left  to  eat?" 

She  was  the  same  old  Nancy,  but 
oh,  so  thin  and  tired-looking  be- 
hind the  smile.  Mary  took  the 
baby,  while  Susan  and  Joy  hurried 
to  set  a  place  for  the  newcomer. 

"We  rather  looked  for  you  last 
night,"  Richard  told  his  oldest 
daughter.  "In  fact,  your  mother 
worried  a  bit." 

"I'm  sorry.  As  you  can  see  by 
my  early  arrival,  I  wasn't  too  far 
away.  But  I  just  didn't  have  what 
it  takes  to  drive  the  rest  of  the  way 
last  night.  If  it  won't  put  you  out 
too  much,  I'd  like  to  stay  and  rest 
up  a  bit  before  going  on." 


"Before  going  on!"  The  entire 
family  joined  in  the  exclamation. 

Nancy  looked  around  the  table. 
"Didn't  you  understand?  You  sure- 
ly didn't  think  I  meant  to  come 
here,  did  you?  But  that  would 
crowd  Susan  out  of  her  room.  And 
Mother  is  so  busy." 

"Then  where  are  you  going?" 
Richard  voiced  the  question  on  the 
tip  of  every  tongue. 

"Down  to  Newton,  to  Lowell's 
folks.  Mother,  didn't  I  write  you 
that  Lowell  thought  I  ought  to  go 
home  to  the  folks?" 

"Yes,  of  course  you  did.  I  just 
can't  get  used  to  the  idea  that  one 
of  my  children  has  two  sets  of 
folks.  I  took  it  for  granted  you 
meant  to  come  here." 

Tears  glistened  in  Nancy's  eyes. 
"And  you've  shifted  around  and 
tried  to  make  room  for  us!  I  know 
you  have!  Oh,  you  dear,  darling 
people,  you  don't  know  how  I  love 
you! 

"The  shifting  is  all  done,  Nancy. 
You  and  Larry  are  welcome  to  stay 
here."  But  jt  was  only  Richard  who 
spoke  the  right  words. 

Mary  looked  around  at  the  faces 
of  her  children  and  in  none  could 
she  find  an  endorsement  of  Rich- 
ard's invitation.  She  was  glad  Nan- 
cy's sight  was  blurred  by  tears. 

"I  know  we  are  welcome,  Dad, 
but  going  to  Lowell's  folks  is  really 
more  practical.  His  father  and 
mother  are  alone  in  that  big  house. 
There  will  be  plenty  of  room  so 
that  Larry  and  I  can  keep  out  from 
underfoot.  He's  teething  and  he 
really  gets  cross  sometimes.  He 
would  disturb  everyone  here." 

"But  you  are  staying  a  few  days, 
aren't  you?"     Susan   asked  as   she 


154 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


pushed  back  her  chair.  "I  must  be 
off  to  work  or  I'll  be  late,  but  I 
want  to  be  sure  you'll  still  be  here 
when  I  get  home  tonight." 

"We'll  be  here/'  Nancy  assured 
her. 

The  next  half  hour  was  full  of 
the  usual  bustle  of  getting  the  fam- 
ily off  to  work  and  school.  Then 
there  was  Larry  to  bathe  and  put  to 
bed  for  his  morning  nap.  Mother 
and  daughter  worked  together,  hap- 
py in  each  other's  company.  But 
when  the  baby  finally  fell  asleep, 
Mary  insisted  that  Nancy  just  sit. 

'These  are  the  only  dishes  I  ever 
do  myself  and  I'm  used  to  doing 
them  alone.  Besides,  you  look  all  in, 
dear.  I'd  worry  more  about  your 
helping  than  your  help  is  worth." 

'M'ANCY  sank  gratefully  onto  the 
cushions  in  the  breakfast  nook. 
"I  am  tired,"  she  admitted.  "Larry 
kept  me  awake  most  of  the  night." 

"I'm  surprised  that  Lowell  let  you 
drive  through  with  the  baby.  Four 
hundred  miles!  It's  too  much  for 
a  young  girl." 

Nancy  smiled.  "This  is  once  you 
can't  blame  Lowell,  Mother.  You 
will  have  to  blame  your  pig-headed 
daughter.  He  didn't  want  me  to 
drive  home,  but  it  was  the  only  way 
I  could  have  the  car.  Somehow, 
just  having  the  car  makes  me  feel 
less  tied  down." 

"At  least  you  can  get  up  here 
often.  It's  only  forty  miles.  That 
will  be  a  lot  closer  than  you  have 
been." 

"That's  what  I  thought,  too, 
Mother.  It's— it's  the  only  thought 
that  makes  living  with  Lowell's 
folks  bearable." 

"Nancy!" 

"I  don't  mean  that  as  a  criticism 


of  his  father  and  mother.  They've 
always  been  very  good  to  me,  and 
they  really  want  me  to  stay  there. 
But,  oh,  Mother  —  just  think! 
They've  never  had  a  baby  in  the 
house  since  Lowell  himself  was  lit- 
tle. It's  always  so  quiet  there.  Not 
a  bit  like  home." 

"I  understand."  Mary  turned 
abruptly  to  her  dishes.  If  she  took 
one  more  look  at  Nancy's  tear- 
brimmed  eyes  she  would  do  what 
she  knew  she  must  not  do.  She 
would  take  matters  into  her  own 
hands  regardless  of  how  the  other 
children  felt. 

But  did  she  have  the  right,  since 
there  really  was  a  more  convenient 
place  for  Nancy  to  stay?  And  be- 
sides, would  Nancy  herself  remain 
when  she  found  out  how  her  broth- 
ers and  sisters  felt?  No,  it  was  bet- 
ter to  leave  well  enough  alone.  But 
it  hurt. 

"There's  just  one  thing,  Mother. 
You  remember  how  I  always  said 
I'd  never  bring  my  children  home 
for  grandma  to  take  care  of.  Well, 
I  guess  I'm  going  to  have  to  take 
it  back.  I'd  feel  better  about  Larry, 
if  you  took  him  while  I'm  in  the 
hospital" 

"Hospital!" 

"Don't  look  at  me  so  frightened, 
Mother.  I  thought  you  might  have 
guessed  why  we  gave  up  our  house. 
Lowell  has  worried  ever  since  we 
were  sure  Larry  would  be  having  a 
little  brother  or  sister  while  his  dad- 
dy was  on  his  mission.  He  gave 
me  no  rest  until  I  promised  to  stay 
with  the  folks,  At  least,  I  will  be 
fully  occupied  while  he  is  away.  I 
won't  have  time  to  miss  him  so 
much." 

By    the    time    Nancy    finished 


ROOM  FOR  NANCY 


155 


speaking,  Mary  had  recovered  from 
her  shock.  She  crossed  the  kitchen 
hurriedly  to  draw  her  eldest  into 
her  arms.  Only  then  did  Nancy 
break  down,  revealing  by  her  heart- 
breaking sobs  the  fear  and  loneliness 
to  which  her  words  so  bravely  gave 
the  lie. 

Mary  held  her  daughter  to  her 
tightly  and  struggled  with  herself. 
Surely  she  had  the  right  to  keep 
Nancy  here  where  she  belonged! 
Here,  surrounded  by  her  happy, 
noisy  family  she  would  have  no 
fear  and,  perhaps,  she  would  lose 
some  of  her  loneliness. 

But  would  she  want  to  stay? 
When  she  found  out  that  her  wel- 
come was  not  wholehearted,  how 
would  she  feel  toward  her  brothers 
and  sisters? 

TN  the  end,  Mary  kept  still.  Yet, 
throughout  the  day,  the  desire  to 
speak  grew  stronger  as  she  saw  how 
difficult  it  was  for  Nancy  to  handle 
fretful  little  Larry  in  her  present 
condition.  There  were  so  many 
ways  in  which  Mary  knew  she  could 
ease  Nancy's  burden,  without  open- 
ly intruding  on  her  independence. 
Would  Lowell's  mother  see  them 
and  make  use  of  them?  Probably 
not.  She  hardly  knew  Nancy  well 
enough  to  see  past  that  self-suffi- 
cient exterior. 

During  the  afternoon  Mary  had 
a  little  time  to  herself.  Larry  was 
again  sleeping  fitfully  and  Nancy 
had  finally  dropped  off  to  sleep,  too. 
Mary  used  the  time  to  try  to  reach 
a  decision.  Should  she  try  to  in- 
fluence the  children  or  not?  To  do 
so  was  against  all  her  beliefs.  She 
had  taught  so  earnestly  that  a  child 
who  has  been  brought  up  under  the 


right  ideals  can  and  should  be  trust- 
ed to  make  his  own  decisions. 

Again  and  again  she  asked  her- 
self the  same  question:  Where  have 
I  failed  that  my  children  cannot  see 
Nancy's  great  need  as  clearly  as  I 
can?  If  they  cannot  see  for  them- 
selves that  Nancy  and  Larry  are 
our  responsibility,  what  could  I  say 
that  would  open  their  eyes? 

Silently  she  prayed  that  she  might 
have  the  patience  to  force  no  un- 
willing decisions. 

"Asleep,  Mother?"  It  was  Jay  at 
her  door  asking  softly  in  order  not 
to  waken  her  if  she  were  asleep.  At 
her  response,  he  came  and  sat 
awkwardly  on  the  side  of  the  bed. 
"Joy  stayed  for  hockey  practice, 
Mom,  but  we  had  a  little  talk  at 
noon.  We  wondered  if  we  weren't 
being  selfish.  It  would  mean  a  lot 
to  Nancy  to  be  home  here  with  you. 
Don't  you  think  she  ought  to  stay 
here?" 

"Yes,  I  do,  son.  But  what  about 
your  studying?" 

"I  was  just  talking  to  hear  myself, 
I  guess.  Lots  of  the  fellows  beef 
about  noise  when  they  want  to 
study,  but  honestly,  when  I  start 
to  concentrate,  the  house  could  fall 
down  and  I'd  never  hear  it." 

Mary  smiled.  "You  certainly  nev- 
er hear  me  when  I  call  you.  But 
what  about  Joy?  She  has  been  so 
happy  having  a  room  to  herself." 

"Well,  I  have  to  share  my  room 
with  Dickie.  This  way  we'll  be  on 
even  terms  again.  She  wants  it  that 
way,  honestly,  Mom." 

"Susan  is  the  one  most  affected," 
Mary  reminded  him.  "Quite  apart 
from  giving  up  her  room,  she 
wouldn't  find  it  easy  to  watch 
Nancy  with   little   Larry,   knowing 


156 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


that  it  will  be  another  three  years 
before  she  can  think  of  having  chil- 
dren of  her  own." 

"I  know,  but  Joy  and  I  wanted 
you  to  know  how  we  feel.  It  just 
doesn't  seem  right  for  Nancy  to 
give  up  Lowell  for  two  years  and 
not  have  her  family  try  to  take  his 
place." 

"I'm  glad  you  feel  that  way,  son. 
We'll  see." 

A  whoop  from  downstairs  brought 
Mary  to  her  feet  in  a  hurry.  "Dickie 
will  wake  Larry  and  Nancy,"  she 
called  back  as  she  hurried  out  of 
the  room. 

CURE  enough,  Larry  was  awake, 
but  Nancy  still  slept  the  sleep 
of  exhaustion.  Mary  quietly  picked 
the  baby  up  and  went  downstairs. 
Dickie  lay  on  the  floor  watching 
television. 

"Here  you  are,  Dickie,"  she  said 
pleasantly,  setting  Larry  on  the 
floor  beside  him.  "You  woke  him 
up,  so  you  get  to  take  care  of  him. 
I  have  to  start  dinner.  Try  to  be 
quiet.  Nancy  is  having  a  much- 
needed  nap." 

She  almost  relented  at  the  dis- 
mayed look  Dickie  gave  her,  but  her 
choice  was  between  Jay  who  was 
undoubtedly  studying  by  this  time, 
and  Dickie  who  never  had  any 
home  work. 

She  went  to  the  kitchen  and 
forced  her  attention  to  the  task  at 
hand.  She  felt  much  better  since 
talking  to  Jay.  Outside  influences 
were  at  work  on  him,  but  they  were 
not  undermining  the  training  he 
had  received  at  home,  as  she  had 
feared. 

But  Susan's  problem  was  differ- 
ent.   Mary's  heart  had  been  wrung 


over  and  over  again  as  she  was 
forced  to  stand  by  and  watch  Susan 
struggle  with  the  loneliness  and 
frustration  of  her  long  separation. 

Dinner  was  almost  ready  when 
she  heard  Richard  and  Susan  come 
in.  Richard  joined  Dickie  and  the 
baby  in  the  living  room,  but  Mary 
heard  Susan  go  upstairs. 

"Mother." 

Mary  turned.  It  was  Susan  —  a 
frowning,  worried  Susan  standing  in 
the  doorway.  "Mother,  would  you 
very  much  mind  if  I  asked  Nancy 
to  stay  here  and  share  a  room  with 
me?" 

"Mind?"  No,  I'd  be  happy  to 
have  her.    But  you  .  .  .  ." 

"Oh,  Mother,  I'm  so  glad.  I'm 
sure  she  will  stay  if  you  ask  her, 
too.  I've  been  worried  sick  all  day. 
She  looks  so  ill,  but  I  kept  think- 
ing how  much  work  it  would  mean 
for  you.  I'll  help  all  I  can,  but 
you're  the  one  who  will  have  the 
real  burden  and  you  do  so  much  for 
all  of  us  already." 

"Having  Nancy  here  would  never 
seem  like  a  burden." 

"Having  Nancy  here  would  be 
heaven  for  me,  Mother.  I  get  so 
lonely  even  with  my  nice  family  for 
moral  support.  And  I  know  Nancy 
is  going  to  feel  the  same  way.  It 
may  be  a  comfort  to  her  for  us  to 
be  lonely  together." 

"Mom!  Mom!"  Dickie's  shrill  cry 
brought  everyone  running.  Richard 
sat  on  the  davenport  smiling  at  his 
youngest  son  and  only  grandchild 
on  the  floor  in  front  of  the  forgot- 
ten television. 

"Mom!  Nancy!  Everybody,  look! 
I'm  teaching  Larry  how  to  walk. 
Come  on,  monster.  Come  to 
Uncle." 


ROOM  FOR  NANCY 


157 


Carefully  Dickie  set  the  baby  on 
his  feet,  then  backed  away  a  step 
to  crouch  with  outstretched  arms. 
Grinning  happily,  little  Larry 
reached  out  a  pudgy  hand.  When 
it  didn't  quite  reach  far  enough,  he 
took  a  tentative  step  and  promptly 
fell  face  forward  into  Dickie's  arms. 

"See,  Mom,"  Dickie  cried,  look- 
ing as  always  to  Mother  for  approv- 
al. "Isn't  he  the  smartest  little 
monster  ever?" 

"Dickie,  you'd  better  watch  out," 
Nancy  spoke  from  behind  Mary. 
"If  you  encourage  him  enough,  you 


might  get  stuck  with  a  baby-sitting 
job." 

"I  wouldn't  mind.  That  old  Billy 
can  just  hush  his  bragging  now  we 
have  a  little  monster  of  our  own," 
and  Dickie  snuggled  the  blond  little 
head  closer  to  him. 

As  Mary  turned  back  to  the 
kitchen,  she  offered  a  little  prayer 
of  thanks.  Hers  was  such  a  won- 
derful family.  Surely,  among  them, 
they  would  be  able  to  convince 
Nancy  she  belonged  at  home.  When 
she  realized  how  much  Susan  need- 
ed her,  Nancy  would  stay. 


Edith  Larson,  Manton,  Michigan,  has  already  been  represented  in  The 
Relief  Society  Magazine  by  a  pioneer  story  "Strength"  published  in  the  July 
1955  issue.  Her  story  "Room  for  Nancy"  marks  her  first  appearance  as  a  win- 
ner in  the  Annual  Relief  Society  Short  Story  Contest.  Altogether,  Mrs.  Lar- 
son has  had  six  short  stories,  three  plays,  an  article,  and  a  poem  published, 
most  of  them  in  national  magazines. 

She  is  a  graduate  of  Northwestern  University,  where  she  majored  in  the 
writing  arts.  The  health  of  an  only  daughter  sent  the  family  West  in  1948. 
In  Fountain  Green,  Utah,  mother  and  daughter  were  converted  to  The  Church 
of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints.  At  present  they  hold  membership  in 
the  Traverse  City,  Michigan,  Branch,  a  part  of  the  Great  Lakes  Mission. 

She  writes:  ''The  Relief  Society  Magazine  means  a  great  deal  to  me, 
especially  since  the  Traverse  City  Branch  is  forty  miles  away  from  my  home, 
and  Relief  Society  meetings  there  are  held  at  a  time  when  I  cannot  attend. 
I  hope  that  this  will  not  always  be  true,  for  I  do  miss  the  meetings  very  much. 
However,  I  have  found  the  Magazine  a  wonderful  way  to  keep  in  touch  with 
the  organization,  and  I  look  forward  eagerly  to  each  issue." 


(^rt/pttc  cJokens 

Eva  W.  Wangsgaard 

I  never  turn  a  living  garden  clod 

But  something  from  the  past  is  turned  as  well. 

A  broken  dish,  a  bucket  bail,  can  prod 

A  host  of  questions  on  the  tale  they  tell. 

Who  was  the  woman  who  once  called  this  home? 

What  was  her  cottage  like?  —  the  one  they  razed 

In  making  room  for  mine.     Within  the  loam 

She  left  me  many  tokens  cryptic-phrased. 

I  see  her  in  the  iron  kettle  turned 

From  her  old  well,  the  stones  that  formed  its  brim, 

The  goad  her  husband  used  when  oxen  churned 

The  trail's  fine  dust.  She  lingers,  young  and  slim, 

Beside  the  gate  whose  rusty  hinge  lies  bent 

Upon  my  spade.    So  still!     So  eloquent! 


cJhe   [Brazilian    //Li. 


ission 


Preston  R.  Nibley 

]y/f  ISSIONARY  work  for  The  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints 
began  in  Brazil  in  December  1927,  when  President  Reinhold  Stoof 
and  Elder  Waldo  Stoddard  of  the  South  American  Mission,  with  head- 
quarters in  Buenos  Aires,  journeyed  northward  to  Brazil,  "to  investigate 
conditions  for  missionary  work  among  the  German  colonies''  in  that  coun- 
try. The  results  of  their  investigation  were  favorable  and,  in  September 
1928,  Elders  William  Heinz  and  Emil  Schindler  sailed  from  Buenos  Aires 
to  Joinville,  Brazil,  to  labor  among  German-speaking  people. 

Two  months  after  their  arrival  they  were  holding  "regular  meetings, 
Sunday  Schools  and  Bible  classes."  The  first  baptisms  in  Brazil  took  place 
on  April  14,  1929,  when  Mrs.  Bertha  Sell  and  her  children,  Theodore,  Alice, 
Siegfried,  and  Adele  were  baptized  and  confirmed  at  Joinville.  A  branch 
of  the  Church  was  organized  in  the  same  city  on  July  6,  1930. 


Asael  T.  Sorensen 


IGUASSU  FALLS  ON  THE  PARANA  RIVER,  BRAZIL 


Page  158 


THE  BRAZILIAN  MISSION 


159 


: 


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Ewing  Galloway 

RIO  DE  JANEIRO,  BRAZIL 

View  from  Pao  Asucar   (the  Sugar  Loaf),  showing  the  city  to  the  base  of 

Corcovado  Mountain. 


A  mission  was  established  in  Brazil  by  the  First  Presidency  in  Feb- 
ruary 1935,  and  Elder  Rulon  Howells  of  Salt  Lake  City  was  chosen  as  the 
president.  On  his  arrival  he  established  headquarters  in  the  city  of  Sao 
Paulo.  Prior  to  that  time  no  missionary  work  had  been  carried  on  among 
the  native  Brazilian  people. 

President  Howells  presided  until  October  1938,  when  he  was  suc- 
ceeded by  John  A.  Bowers;  President  Bowers  was  succeeded  in  April  1942 
by  William  W.  Seegmiller;  President  Seegmiller  was  succeeded  in  May 
1945  by  Harold  M.  Rex;  President  Rex  was  succeeded  in  March  1949  by 
Rulon  S.  Howells;  President  Howells  was  succeeded  in  November  1953  by 
Asael  T.  Sorensen,  who  presides  at  the  present  time. 

In  November  1955  there  were  twenty-three  branches  of  the  Church 
in  Brazil,  with  1,103  members.  Fifteen  Relief  Society  organizations  were 
reported  in  December  1955,  with  143  members.  Ida  Lorene  M.  Sorensen 
is  now  president  of  the  Brazilian  Mission  Relief  Society. 


How  We  Conduct  the  Family 
Hour  in  Our  Home 


Helen  S.  Gardner 

[Address  delivered  at  Logan  Stake  Quarterly  Conference,  Logan,  Utah, 

September  4,  1955] 


WE  have  two  kinds  of  family 
hours  in  our  home.  First, 
the  impromptu  kind,  when 
Eldon  suddenly  finds  that  his  meet- 
ing has  unexpectedly  been  canceled 
and  he  will  be  home;  and,  second, 
the  kind  that  is  planned  in  advance. 

What  excitement  there  is  when 
Eldon  comes  in  and  says,  "I'm  go- 
ing to  be  home  tonight.  Let's  have 
a  home  evening!'* 

The  older  girls  hurry  and  wash 
up  the  dishes,  while  Donald,  our 
son,  makes  a  fire  in  the  fireplace, 
and  I  stir  up  some  punch  and  hunt 
for  cookies  in  the  basement. 

As  we  sit  around  the  blazing  fire, 
Eldon  holds  Mary  Jane  on  his  lap 
and  reads  aloud  to  us.  Thus  we 
have  heard  many  chapters  from  the 
life  histories  of  our  ancestors.  These 
were  all  sturdy  pioneer  folk,  and  we 
have  learned  to  be  more  thankful 
for  our  blessings  just  through  hear- 
ing of  the  hardships  they  went 
through. 

Then,  sometimes,  I  read.  Already, 
we  have  covered  the  Book  of 
Mormon  Stones  for  Children,  and 
two  books  of  Bible  stories  for  chil- 
dren. When  the  littlest  children 
become  too  tired  to  sit  still  any 
longer,  we  sing  some  songs,  play  a 
game  or  two,  and  enjoy  punch  and 
cookies. 

But    the    planned,    anticipated, 

Page  160 


family  hours  are  much  more  fun. 
First,  we  must  choose  a  night  when 
Eldon  will  be  home.  This  has  be- 
come increasingly  difficult  since  he 
became  bishop,  and  the  regularity 
of  our  meetings  has  been  upset,  but 
we  choose  our  time  and  hold  to  it 
even  though  he  may  be  called  out. 
The  children  look  forward  with 
such  enthusiasm  to  family  night 
that  I  am  never  allowed  to  forget 
it. 

We  have  two  sets  of  children  in 
our  family:  the  older  group,  ages 
eleven  to  fifteen,  and  the  younger 
group,  ages  three  to  seven.  When 
it  is  decided  that  a  family  hour  will 
be  held,  they  all  come  tumbling 
boisterously  into  the  kitchen  yell- 
ing, "I  speak  to  be  the  refreshment 
committee";  ''I  want  to  be  on  the 
entertainment  committee";  "I  want 
the  program." 

We  unscramble  our  committees. 
Each  member  receives  his  assign- 
ment. Usually,  an  older  one  and  a 
younger  one  work  on  a  committee 
together.  The  refreshment  com- 
mittee prefers  to  work  secretly  in 
order  to  surprise  us  with  something 
unusually  delicious.  The  entertain- 
ment committee  retires  to  a  corner 
to  plan  the  games.  Much  whisper- 
ing goes  on  —  sometimes  for  days  — 
and  occasionally  I  am  consulted  for 
advice. 


HOW  WE  CONDUCT  THE  FAMILY  HOUR  IN  OUR  HOME 


161 


HPHE  program  committee  is,  of 
course,  the  most  important. 
Material  is  often  gathered  from  The 
Children  s  Friend,  The  Improve- 
ment Era,  or  Sunday  School  lesson 
manuals.  Betty  has  suggested  that 
our  next  program  should  center 
around  the  theme  of  "Reverence," 
as  suggested  in  Primary. 

We  must  remember  to  have 
something  which  will  be  interesting 
to  the  older  group  of  children  and 
appealing  to  the  younger  ones,  yet 
not  too  long  and  tiring.  Very  often 
each  member  of  the  family  is  asked 
to  participate.  Prayers  must  be  as- 
signed. More  than  once  I  have 
found  Alice,  age  five,  in  a  corner 
with  Mary  Jane,  age  three,  trying 
to  teach  her  a  little  prayer.  Songs 
and  music  must  be  decided  upon. 
Cynthia  particularly  loves  to  lead 
the  singing,  and  when  she's  in 
charge,  we  are  practically  certain 
that  we'll  be  singing  her  favorite 
song,  "My  Country,  Tis  of  Thee." 

The  musical  talents  of  our  family- 
could  be  improved  upon,  but  very 
often  we  have  Patricia  playing  the 
violin  while  Donald  plays  a  tune  on 
his  clarinet.  And  Betty  can  already 
play  a  melody  on  the  piano.  Then, 
we  all  love  to  sing.  We  sing  Pri- 
mary and  Sunday  School  songs  for 
the  younger  group  and  Mutual  fun 
songs  for  the  older  group,  and  usual- 
ly end  up  with  "Come,  Come,  Ye 
Saints."  Of  course  we  close  with 
prayer.  These  are  some  of  the 
things  we  have  done  just  this  sum- 
mer in  participating  on  our  Family 
Hour,  beginning  with  the  youngest 
child. 

Mary  Jane  has  repeated  a  finger 
play  with  actions  that  she  learned  in 
Sunday  School,  and  has  sung  the 


song,  "Jesus,  Friend  of  Little  Chil- 
dren," from  Primary. 

The  littlest  children  are  very  sin- 
cere and  innocent  in  the  way  they 
tell  stories,  but  are  sometimes  amus- 
ing to  their  parents. 

Alice  said  she  had  a  story  from 
the  Bible  she  could  tell.  There  was 
a  man  named  Elijah.  He  was  a 
good  man  and  was  hiding  away 
from  the  bad  people  in  a  cave.  He 
was  hungry,  so  he  prayed  to  Heaven- 
ly Father.  Pretty  soon  a  big  sea 
gull  came  flying  over  and  dropped 
him  a  pancake. 

Cynthia  said  she  could  tell  a 
story  she  heard  in  Sunday  School. 
She  told  how  a  man  named  Nehi 
left  Jerusalem  and  traveled  in  the 
wilderness.  He  lived  in  a  tent.  One 
morning  he  found  a  large  brass  ball 
in  front  of  his  tent.  The  word 
Liahona  is  still  hard  to  remember, 
and  we  have  to  keep  reminding  her 
that  the  man's  name  was  Lehi,  not 
Nehi,  but  she  never  forgets  that 
his  wife  was  named  Sariah. 

Betty  has  repeated  the  Articles  of 
Faith  as  far  as  she  has  learned  them 
in  Primary.  Donald  has  finished 
the  Articles  of  Faith  where  Betty 
left  off  and  has  repeated  the  Boy 
Scout  Oath  and  Laws  and  given  us 
a  good  demonstration  of  flag  signal- 
ing. 

Patricia  has  given  a  talk  on  faith 
and  other  short  selections.  I  have 
illustrated  the  stories  of  Adam  and 
Eve  and  Noah  and  the  ark  on  my 
flannel  board  which  I  use  for  Pri- 
mary, and  Eldon  has  ended  the 
program  with  a  Scriptural  reading 
or  a  short  talk  on  a  religious  subject. 
Then  we  have  had  the  closing 
prayer. 

After  the   program,  the  refresh- 


162 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


ment  committee  takes  over.  With 
our  mouths  watering,  we  sit  politely 
while  we  are  served.  We  have  had 
some  delicious  concoctions,  usually 
something  which  the  children  have 
thought  of  and  prepared  themselves 
with  a  little  help. 

HPHEN  the  entertainment  commit- 
tee comes  forth  with  the  games. 
It  is  a  family  rule  to  have  two  games 
for  the  younger  children  and  two 
for  the  older  ones.  On  one  occas- 
ion, I  helped  the  committee  make 
a  Book  of  Mormon  game  which 
consisted  of  questions  from  The 
Book  of  Mormon  stories  we  had 
read.  Each  question  was  written 
on  a  card.     The  person  answering 


the  question  could  keep  the  card, 
and  the  one  with  the  most  cards  in 
the  end  won  the  game.  Once  Don- 
ald and  I  made  an  Articles  of  Faith 
puzzle.  We  wrote  the  Articles  of 
Faith  in  big  letters  on  cardboard 
and  cut  them  up  in  puzzles.  We 
took  turns  fitting  the  puzzles  to- 
gether. 

We  have  noticed  much  growth 
and  development  through  participa- 
tion in  our  Family  Hour,  but  best 
of  all  we  are  learning  the  gospel  to- 
gether and  having  fun  doing  it. 
Family  Hour  is  helping  to  build 
testimonies  in  the  lives  of  our  chil- 
dren and  thereby  is  strengthening 
ours. 


{Desert    LJ earnings 

Annie  Atlrin  Tanner 

When  summer  suns  in  other  lands  torture  me, 

I  long  for  desert  thunderstorms 

Which  tear  black  clouds  apart  and  let  a  prayed-for 

Rain,  fall  on  red  earth, 

That  long  has  begged  for  saving  streams 

From  heaven. 

In  the  desert  there  are  no  trembling  aspens 

Nor  stately  pines  nor  rugged  junipers 

To  grace  this  land  I  love, 

But  there  are  thorny  cactus  plants, 

With  blossoms  pink  as  the  glow  of  early  morning, 

And  deliciously  smelling  of  fruits 

Grown  only  in  the  tropics. 

There  are  creamy,  waxen  bells, 

On  sturdy  stems  of  Yucca  trees, 

Whose  sword-spiked  leaves  guard  well 

Their  perfumed  loveliness. 

And  there  is  copper-colored  moonlight, 

The  song  of  the  cactus  wren, 

And  after  rain,  the  pungent  breath 

Of  chaparral. 

Oh,  there  is  peace  and  restful  solitude, 
In  this  chimerical  world  of  my  desert, 
And  I  long  for  it  with  a  nostalgic  yearning, 
That  years  can  never  take  away! 


The  Ice-Cream  Pie 


Florence  B.  Dunford 


I  am  afraid  I  have  always  been 
the  timid  sort.  "Do  people 
like  me?"  seems  always  to  be 
my  question.  And,  "How  much 
can  I  do  for  them?"  And,  "Do 
people  really  like  you  to  do  things 
for  them?"  Things  like  that.  Mat- 
ters of  friendliness. 

A  couple  of  years  before,  we  had 
moved  to  this  new  neighborhood. 
At  first  everyone  made  an  obvious 
effort  to  be  friendly,  to  get  acquaint- 
ed. But  then  the  Jennings  on  the 
east  of  us  seemed  to  find  out  that 
Tim  and  I  didn't  really  travel  in 
their  class  after  all.  The  neighbors 
directly  across  the  street  from  us 
were  a  trifle  old  for  me,  I  felt.  Be- 
sides, she  was  a  club  woman  and 
gone  all  day.  And  Dr.  Walton  was 
older  even  than  his  wife.  By  even- 
ing all  he  wanted  was  to  settle  down 
with  TV. 

That  left  the  neighbors  on  the 
west  of  us;  he  traveled  over  several 
states.  His  wife  went  with  him.  On 
the  east  of  the  doctor,  across  the 
street,  lived  the  Morrisons.  Mrs. 
Morrison,  though  she  was  of  our 
faith,  had  four  growing  daughters, 
and  an  aged,  ailing  father.  Mrs. 
Morrison,  I  knew,  didn't  have  much 
time  for  friendliness. 

The  neighbor  I  really  wanted  to 
know  was  a  Mrs.  Carter  who  lived 
in  a  smaller  house  than  ours,  com- 
pact and  neat,  but  not  so  elaborate, 
on  the  west  of  the  old  doctor  and 
his  wife. 

I  just  didn't  know  what  had  hap- 
pened between  Joan  Carter  and  my- 
self. She  was  my  sort,  I  felt.  She 
beamed  friendliness.  They'd  bought 


their  home  a  year  or  so  later  than 
we'd  built  ours,  and  they  had  two 
children.  We'd  been  among  the 
first  in  the  subdivision  of  an  old 
apple  orchard  that  had  been  turned 
into  a  homesite;  the  prettiest  one 
in  our  small  western  city,  people 
often  told  me. 

"The  Carters  would  like  to  get 
acquainted,"  Tim  my  husband  told 
me  several  times  there  at  first.  "She 
seems  an  awfully  nice  sort.  We 
ought  to  have  them  over." 

"We  will,"  I  said.  But  somehow 
the  time  never  came.  I  had  old 
friends  I  was  still  interested  in. 
There  was  the  work  on  the  new 
yard;  I  wanted  to  keep  the  house 
shining.  Our  daughter  was  away 
at  school,  summer  and  winter.  I 
kept  finding  new  interests. 

Gradually  the  Carters  and  we 
drifted  into  just  a  pleasant  speaking 
acquaintance.  This  hurt  me,  for  I 
wanted  to  be  friendly.  Why 
doesn't  Joan  borrow  from  me?  I 
thought,  the  morning  I  saw  her  re- 
turning the  steam  iron  to  the  neigh- 
bor at  the  extreme  end  of  the  block. 
What  is  it  I've  done  or  haven't 
done  that  makes  her  feel  shy  or  un- 
friendly toward  me? 

The  time  seemed  to  have  passed 
when  I  could  ask  them  over,  casual- 
ly, or  for  a  more  formal  evening. 
Why  doesn't  she  like  me?  I  kept 
thinking.  Why  won't  she  just  run 
in  and  out  the  way  I'd  like  to  have 
her  do  —  the  way  I  see  her  do  with 
Betty  Jennings  on  the  east,  who, 
though  I  didn't  care  so  much  about 
her,  rarely  visited  me  either. 

Maybe  it's  Tim,  I  decided.    Per- 

Page  163 


164 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


haps  Tim  wasn't  friendly  enough 
with  the  husbands. 

Yet  it  was  Tim  who  first  got  ac- 
quainted with  the  Carters.  And  the 
Jennings  on  the  east,  and  the  Fent- 
ons  on  the  west,  and  the  old  doctor 
and  the  Morrisons.  No,  I  felt  sure 
it  wasn't  Tim.  Something  was  the 
matter  with  me.  People  just  didn't 
like  me.    But  why,  why? 

Still  I  had  my  old  friends.  They 
at  least  understood  me.  That  morn- 
ing in  April  with  the  apple  blossoms 
on  the  old  trees  in  bloom,  the  nar- 
cissi and  the  tulips  and  the  flower- 
ing crab  making  a  perfumed  fairy 
garden  in  the  rear,  Ann  Helke 
phoned  me. 

"Louise  Davis  and  I  are  going  to 
have  lunch  and  spend  the  afternoon 
shopping,"  she  said.  "Would  you 
like  to  join  us?" 

"Tim's  going  to  stay  home  and 
work  on  the  yard  today,"  I  an- 
swered. "I'd  sort  of  promised  my- 
self .  .  .  but,  yes,  I'll  go,"  I  decided. 
An  afternoon  downtown  with  my 
old  friends  would  do  me  good. 

■pVEN  so,  that  day  thinking  about 
Tim  eating  his  sandwich  alone, 
spending  the  day  alone  while  I 
loafed  and  gadded  and  enjoyed  my- 
self at  lunch  and  during  the  long 
afternoon  going  from  shop  to  shop, 
kept  worrying  me.  That's  silly  I'd 
argue  with  myself  from  time  to 
time.  Tim  doesn't  really  care.  I 
don't  waste  much  of  my  time.  It 
just  happens  he  is  home  today.  And 
look  at  Ann  and  Louise.  Some  wom- 
en spend  half  their  time  —  three- 
fourths  of  it,  visiting,  attending 
clubs,  going  to  movies,  or  just  plain 
window  shopping. 

"I  haven't  a  thing  in  the  house 
to  eat,"  I  told  Ann  guiltily,  when 


along  about  six  o'clock  she  dropped 
me  off  in  front  of  our  ranch  style 
house. 

"Neither  have  I,"  she  answered 
easily.  "But  I'll  find  something.  Or 
maybe  Jess'll  take  me  out." 

Tim  wasn't  much  at  eating  out, 
I  thought,  as  I  opened  the  front 
door.  But  after  a  day's  work  on 
the  yard  —  Tim  always  went  at  any- 
thing twice  as  hard  as  he  ought  — 
he'd  want  something  really  sub- 
stantial, along  with  something  nice 
for  dessert.  Tim  was  a  meat  and 
dessert  man.  The  things  in  be- 
tween didn't  interest  him  much. 

A  quick  glance  through  the  rooms 
said  Tim  wasn't  in  from  the  yard 
yet.  Dumping  my  hat  and  my  few 
purchases  on  the  bed  in  the  far  bed- 
room, I  hurried  out  back. 

"I'm  home,  darling,"  I  called. 

Tim  turned  a  red,  weary  face  to 
me  from  the  far  side  of  the  garden. 
"That's  good." 

"Hungry?" 

He  tried  to  smile.  "Famished. 
That  sandwich  .  .  .  ." 

"I  know,"  I  said  guiltily.  "And 
I'll  bet  you  haven't  stopped  a  min- 
ute all  day.  I'll  hurry  and  get  din- 
ner. 

That  morning,  standing  by  my 
kitchen  sink  there  at  the  front  of 
the  house,  I'd  noticed  a  couple  of 
strange  cars  in  the  Carter  driveway. 
Joan's  folks  from  the  northern  part 
of  the  state,  I  had  thought. 

The  cars  were  still  there,  I  saw. 
Joan  will  be  busy,  I  thought,  and 
I  imagined  her  hurrying  through  the 
small  rooms  (ours  were  so  large), 
her  hazel  eyes  smiling,  her  short 
dark  hair  smooth  and  neat.  Joan 
was  such  a  pretty  woman! 

I  hurried  to   the   icebox  to   see 


THE  ICE-CREAM  PIE 


165 


what  I  could  find  for  Tim's  dinner. 
Leftover  lamb  roast  from  two  days 
ago.  A  salad.  I  could  open  a  can 
of  brown  beans  to  go  with  it.  But 
what  for  dessert?  Tim  simply  didn't 
consider  he'd  eaten  without  dessert! 

More  from  habit  than  from  hope, 
I  opened  the  freezing  compartment. 
At  best  I  expected  to  find  nothing 
better  than  a  can  of  frozen  orange 
juice,  a  taste  of  half-melted  sher- 
bet .... 

At  first,  I  literally  couldn't  be- 
lieve my  eyes.  I  blinked  and  looked 
again.  On  the  lower  shelf  of  the 
freezing  compartment,  basking  in 
a  luscious  pale  brown  crumb  crust, 
was  the  most  delectable  lime-green 
ice-cream  pie  I'd  ever  seen! 

I  swallowed  and  looked  a  third 
time.  The  vision  didn't  change. 
My  heart  beating  fast,  I  hurried  out 
back  again. 

"Tim,  oh,  Tim!"  I  called  softly. 
"Who  sent  the  beautiful  pie?" 

npiM,  with  his  face  deep  in  the 
bushes,  his  back  toward  me, 
didn't  answer.  I  went  back  inside, 
opened  the  ice  box  again,  this  time 
just  to  stare. 

Who  had  sent  the  pie?  Which 
of  my  new  neighbors? 

I  hurried  to  the  window.  The 
solution  of  Tim's  dessert  problem 
and  my  little  guilty  feeling  at  leav- 
ing him,  wasting  my  afternoon,  had 
brought  with  it  another  problem. 
Which  one  of  my  neighbors  —  the 
fragility  of  the  pie  indicated  it  must 
have  come  from  close  by  —  which 
one,  had  done  this  kindly,  this  most 
timely  deed? 

Betty  Jennings,  there  on  the  east, 
I  mused.  Betty  called  desserts 
"goop."  Across  from  her,  the  Mor- 
risons.    Mrs.   Morrison   would   be 


too  busy  with  her  own  brood,  her 
ailing  father,  to  spend  the  time  on 
such  a  work  of  art  as  this!  The  old 
doctor's  wife  directly  across  from 
us!  As  if  in  answer  to  that  Mrs. 
Walton's  ice-blue  car,  with  her  at 
the  wheel,  coasted  in  to  their  wide 
driveway.  On  the  west  of  us,  the 
new  people,  the  Fentons?  But  just 
this  morning  Tim  had  told  me  they 
were  in  Portland. 

Joan  Carter,  then!  Joan  Carter, 
the  one  I  so  hoped  and  wanted  it 
to  be!  There  just  wasn't  any  other 
answer.  While  I  had  been  down- 
town with  my  old  friends,  shopping 
and  wasting  my  day,  Joan  had  — 
along  with  her  house  guests  — 
found  the  time,  and  the  desire,  to 
make  this  wonderful  lime-green  ice 
cream  pie! 

My  heart  sang.  All  my  problems, 
my  self-doubts,  I  felt  were  answered. 
Joan  still  wanted  to  be  friends. 
Whatever  had  happened  there  at 
first,  it  didn't  matter  now.  Joan 
and  I  were  friends!  I'd  never  doubt 
her  again!  I'd  never  doubt  myself! 
And  in  the  future  I'd  never  forget 
it.  No  matter  what  happened,  no 
matter  the  slights  and  the  coldness, 
I'd  have  this  to  go  by.  The  knowl- 
edge of  her  kindness  would  stay  in 
my  mind  and  my  heart  forever. 

I  began  to  plan  the  things  we'd 
do  together,  Joan  borrowing  from 
me,  me  calling  across  to  her,  Tim 
and  her  husband  friends.  Her  chil- 
dren, maybe,  calling  me  Aunt  Sally. 

The  lamb  roast,  the  fresh  green 
salad,  even  the  canned  oven- 
browned  beans  took  on  a  different 
aspect  as,  calling  to  Tim  again  that 
dinner  was  ready,  I  set  them  on  the 
table  there  in  our  small  dining 
room,   just  off  the  kitchen.     And 


166 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


then  to  please  Tim's  eye,  to  make 
the  occasion  even  more  special, 
while  he  was  washing  in  the  bath- 
room just  off  the  patio,  I  lifted  the 
ice-cream  pie  from  its  shelf.  Cut- 
ting two  generous  wedges,  I  slid 
them  carefully  onto  two  of  my 
Minton  plates. 

"It's  ready,  dear;  dinner's  ready," 
I  sang  out,  just  as  Tim  appeared 
through  the  door  of  the  utility 
room. 

Tim,  weary  as  he  was,  didn't  seem 
to  notice.  He  drew  back  his  chair, 
sank  into  it.    "Whew,  what  a  day!" 

I  could  restrain  myself  no  longer. 
"You  saw  the  pie,"  I  said,  my  glance 
indicating  the  creamy,  ice-cool 
wedges.  "Wasn't  it  nice  of  Joan  to 
send  it?"  I  was  so  sure  it  was  Joan. 
I  could  speak  with  such  sureness. 

"CEND  us  the  pie!"  Tim  explod- 
ed. At  last  he  was  seeing  the 
creamy  wedges.  "Joan  didn't  give 
it  to  us!  She's  got  guests.  Her  ice- 
box was  full.  She  just  wanted  to 
store  it  in  ours." 

The  bottom  seemed  to  fall  out 
of  my  day.  "Just  .  .  .  store  .  .  .  it?" 
I  stammered.  It  was  as  though  I 
were  begging  him  to  say  differently. 

Tim  nodded.  "And  you've  cut 
it!"  There  was  blame  and  censure 
in  his  voice,  his  manner. 

"Oh,  I'm  sorry!  I  called  to  you 
but  you  didn't  hear  me.  I'll  have 
to  put  it  back." 

"Well,  I'll  say,"  Tim  said.  He 
was  helping  himself  to  the  leftover 
roast,  the  canned  beans. 

As  best  I  could  I  slid  the  delicate 
pieces  into  place,  put  the  pie  back 
in  the  freezer,  turned  up  the  con- 
trols. But  already  the  pieces  had 
begun  to  melt.    The  pie  would  nev- 


er look  the  same  again.  And  I'd 
never  feel  the  same  again. 

"You're  not  eating,"  Tim  said  a 
few  minutes  later. 

"I'm  .  .  .  just  not  hungry,  I 
guess."  I  murmured  something 
about  my  afternoon  downtown. 

My  neighbor  had  been  thinking 
of  me.  She  had  turned  to  me  to 
store  her  pie  and  now  we'd  never 
be  friends. 

In  the  morning,  however,  I  pre- 
pared Tim's  and  my  own  bacon  and 
eggs,  new  strawberries,  and  buttered 
toast,  and  I  ate  mine  with  relish. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  to- 
day?" Tim  asked  his  usual  question, 
as,  dressed  in  his  neat  tan  suit,  his 
lips  touched  my  cheek  at  the  door. 

"I've  really  got  a  busy  day,"  I  said 
smiling.  "I'm  going  to  make  you 
something  nice  for  dessert  tonight. 
Besides  that,  I'm  going  to  bake 
something  for  the  neighbors." 

"The  neighbors?"  Tim  raised  his 
eyebrows  in  mock  consternation. 
"All  of  them?" 

"Well,  some  of  them.  Mrs.  Mor- 
rison; her  girls  would  like  some 
cookies,  I'm  sure.  And  maybe  her 
old  father  .  .  .  he'd  like  a  custard. 
And  Betty,  next  door.  I'll  bet  I 
can  find  some  kind  of  dessert  she 
won't  call  'goop.' '  I  hesitated  a 
moment.  "But  most  of  all  I  want 
to  bake  something  for  Joan.  Most 
especially,  Joan." 

Tim's  face  lit  up  in  the  most 
beatific  smile.  "Well,  that's  more 
like  it,"  he  said. 

And  I  knew  suddenly  that  if  I  had 
been  worried  about  myself,  he  had 
been  worried  about  me,  too.  And 
now  neither  of  us  was  worried. 

"That's  my  girl,"  he  said.  And 
bending  over  me  again,  he  kissed 
me  on  the  mouth. 


Qetting    Tievo  Subscriptions  and  [Renewals  for 
ofhe  [Relief  Society    1 1  Lagazine 

Lucy  Horman 

Magazine  Representative,  Highland  Stake  (Utah) 

[Discussion  Presented  in  the  Magazine  Department  Meeting,  Annual  General  Relief 

Society  Conference,  September  29,  1955] 


MEMBERS  of  our  Church  are 
constantly  asked  to  perform 
tasks  for  which  they  have  lit- 
tle or  no  training.  This  is  par- 
ticularly true  of  the  Magazine  rep- 
resentatives. They  often  come  to 
us  with  misgivings.  I  have  heard 
them  say,  "I  haven't  had  any  experi- 
ence in  selling,  but  our  president 
combed  the  ward  and  was  unable 
to  find  anyone  to  fill  this  position, 
so  I  have  decided  to  help  her  out." 
We  have  learned  from  experience 
that  it  isn't  how  much  they  know 
that  matters,  but  how  willing  they 
are  to  learn. 

A  Planned  Reading  Program 

If  we  are  to  be  successful,  we 
must  increase  our  knowledge  of  sell- 
ing. To  gain  knowledge  of  selling, 
we  would  do  well  to  study  the  tech- 
nique of  outstanding  salesmen  who 
make  their  living  in  this  field.  Gain- 
ing knowledge  is  dependent  on  the 
persistent  effort  we  put  forth.  To 
increase  knowledge,  some  profes- 
sional salesmen  advise  a  planned 
reading  program.  Thirty  minutes 
each  day  is  suggested.  Part  of  our 
reading  should  be  done  aloud,  so 
we  can  hear  our  voices  and  improve 
any  undesirable  qualities  that  we 
may  discover.  Words  have  been 
called  the  tools  with  which  we  ex- 
press our  thoughts.  Therefore,  it  is 
suggested  that  we  improve  our  vo- 


cabularies by  spending  a  few  min- 
utes each  day  with  the  dictionary. 
We  should  persist  in  using  these 
new  words  until  they  become  nat- 
ural to  us. 

We  must  also  develop  our  ability 
to  think  clearly  and  express  our 
thoughts  fluently,  for  we  want  to 
give  the  impression  that  we  know 
what  we  are  talking  about.  The 
ability  to  say  the  right  word  at  the 
right  time  is  often  the  difference  be- 
tween success  and  failure. 

A  Positive  Attitude 

A  positive  attitude  is  vital  to  suc- 
cess. Any  negative  expression  may 
defeat  our  cause.  This  brings  to 
mind  an  incident  of  my  youth.  A 
neighbor  girl  came  to  our  home  and 
said  to  my  mother,  "Mrs.  Smith, 
Fm  selling  pins.  I  knew  you 
wouldn't  buy  any,  but  I  thought  I'd 
come  anyway." 

After  she  had  gone,  mother  said 
with  a  grin,  'There  is  a  young  lady 
who  is  destined  to  rise  to  the 
heights  in  the  field  of  selling!" 

A  popular  song  of  a  few  years  ago 
suggested  that  we  emphasize  the 
positive  and  eliminate  the  negative, 
and  that  is  what  we  want  to  do  and 
we  can  do  it  by  choosing  our  words 
carefully. 

A  Magazine  representative  in  my 
stake  discovered  that  she  was  saying 

Page  167 


168  RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 

the   wrong  thing  when   she  asked  us  by  our  Heavenly  Father  through 

for  renewals.    It  had  been  her  habit  the  Prophet  Joseph  Smith  for  our 

to  say,  "Would  you  like  to  renew  growth  and  development.  The  Mag- 

your  subscription  to  The  Relief  So-  azine  representative  has  a  very  im- 

ciety  Magazine?"     She  had  a  dis-  portant  calling,  for  it  is  her  task  to 

couraging  number  of  them  say  "No."  place  the  Magazine,  or  the  "Voice 

She  thought  about  it  for  some  time,  of  the  Relief  Society,"  as  it  has  been 

and  concluded  that  when  she  said,  called,    in    every    Latter-day    Saint 

"Would  you  like  to  renew  your  sub-  home, 
scription?"  she  was  placing  a  choice 

in  front  of  them,  and  they  were  The  Advantage  of  Personal  Contact 
choosing  to  do  the  very  thing  she  How  shall  we  make  these  con- 
didn't  want  them  to  do.  Now  she  tacts?  Several  approaches  come  to 
has  changed  her  wording  to,  "It  is  my  mind.  The  personal  contact, 
time  for  you  to  renew  your  subscrip-  the  telephone,  and  at  a  Relief  So- 
tion  to  The  Relief  Society  Maga-  ciety  meeting.  Again,  we  shall  turn 
zine,7J  and  has  had  very  few  refusals  to  the  professional  salesman  for  ad- 
since.  vice.  I  have  talked  personally  with 
Authorities  agree  that  we  must  be  some  of  these  men,  and  they  agree 
persistent  in  our  efforts  to  learn,  and  that  there  is  no  substitute  for  per- 
we  must  have  the  qualities  that  sonal  contact.  The  personal  con- 
make  people  like  us.  We  should  tact  gives  an  opportunity  to  get  ac- 
analyze  our  personalities.  Are  we  quainted  with  the  women.  It  gives 
cheerful,  enthusiastic,  and  consider-  the  Magazine  representative  a 
ate  of  the  feelings  of  others?  If  not,  chance  to  show  the  Magazine,  ex- 
we  should  develop  these  qualities,  plain  its  contents,  and  point  out  its 
It  is  also  important  that  we  under-  value  to  the  family.  It  also  gives 
stand  human  behavior  so  we  can  her  the  opportunity  to  explain  the 
combine  our  knowledge  and  these  Relief  Society  organization  which 
qualities  of  personality  to  influence  is  responsible  for  the  Magazine.  It 
people  to  do  what  we  want  them  to  is  in  the  unhurried  atmosphere  of 
do.  the  home  visit  that  the  Magazine 

representative's      personality     will 

Know  the  Magazine  show  to  the  best  advantage. 

We  have  learned  from  master 
salesmen  that  we  must  know  our  Using  the  Telephone 
product  before  we  can  success-  I  have  been  assured  that  no  busi- 
fully  present  it  to  others.  In  our  ness  could  be  run  without  the  tele- 
case  we  must  know  The  Relief  So-  phone.  However,  in  selling,  it  is 
ciety  Magazine,  and  only  by  reading  only  useful  if  we  understand  its 
the  Magazine  will  we  know  its  con-  limitations.  Its  real  value  in  sell- 
tents  and  its  worth  to  other  women,  ing  is  to  clear  the  way  for  a  person- 
Magazine  representatives  should  al  interview,  where  the  selling  will 
learn  all  they  can  about  the  Relief  be  done.  Insurance  companies  use 
Society  organization,  its  history,  and  the  telephone  to  eliminate  from 
its  aims.    We  know  it  was  given  to  their  lists  the  names  of  people  who 


GETTING  NEW  SUBSCRIPTIONS  AND  RENEWALS 


169 


are  not  interested  in  what  they  have 
to  offer.  Although  the  Magazine 
representative  would  not  use  the 
phone  for  the  same  purpose,  it  is 
helpful  to  us  in  many  ways.  One 
of  our  ward  representatives  used  it 
to  get  her  renewals.  She  said  she 
was  ill  for  five  weeks,  and  could  not 
get  around  the  ward.  So  she  called 
the  women  on  the  phone  and  ex- 
plained the  situation  to  them.  She 
told  them  it  was  time  to  renew  their 
subscriptions  and  asked  them  to 
send  the  money  to  her.  She  was 
very  happy  when  they  all  renewed. 
This  was  an  emergency  where  the 
telephone  was  put  to  good  use.  It 
can  also  be  used  to  check  with  new 
subscribers  to  make  sure  they  are 
receiving  their  Magazine.  While 
we  do  not  usually  make  appoint- 
ments for  interviews,  it  is  advisable, 
where  women  work,  to  call  them  on 
the  phone  and  ask  for  the  privilege 
of  visiting  in  their  homes  at  a  time 
that  is  convenient. 

Announcements  in 
Relief  Society  Meetings 

Although  the  Relief  Society 
meeting  is  not  the  place  for  mak- 
ing sales,  it  does  give  the  Maga- 
zine representative  an  opportunity 
to  speak  occasionally.  An  enthus- 
iastic talk,  especially  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  fall  season,  will  serve  as 
a  reminder  to  the  women  that  the 
Magazine  representative  will  be  vis- 
iting them  in  their  homes  for  new 
subscriptions  or  renewals. 

Parents  with  missionaries  in  the 
field  should  be  encouraged  to  send 
the  Magazine  to  them,  for  mission- 
aries are  often  called  upon  to  serve 
in  this  organization.  When  my 
own  son  was  serving  in  Australia, 
I  sent  the  Magazine  to  him.     He 


notified  me  upon  receipt  of  his  first 
copy.  A  short  time  passed,  and  in 
another  letter  he  said,  "Mother, 
have  you  read  the  articles  in  The 
Relief  Society  Magazine  written  by 
Homer  Durham?  If  you  haven't,  I 
suggest  that  you  do  so."  A  few 
weeks  later  in  another  letter,  he 
said,  "Mother,  I'm  now  teaching 
the  social  science  class  in  Relief  So- 
ciety. These  lessons  are  written  by 
Homer  Durham.  If  you  have  not 
read  them,  I  suggest  that  you  do 
so."  At  that  time  I  was  president 
of  the  Relief  Society,  so  found  his 
suggestion  amusing. 

Renewals 

We  must  keep  in  mind  that  it  is 
not  only  the  responsibility  of  the 
Magazine  representative  to  get  new 
subscriptions,  but  she  must  take 
care  of  all  renewals.  These  renewals, 
like  new  subscriptions,  must  be 
turned  in  to  the  general  board  one 
month  in  advance,  as  only  enough 
Magazines  are  published  to  fill  the 
subscriptions  received.  The  Maga- 
zine representatives  should  take  the 
renewals  very  seriously,  as  most  of 
our  women  have  come  to  depend 
on  them  for  this  service.  It  is  un- 
fortunate when  a  subscription  runs 
out  and  an  issue  is  missed.  In  many 
cases  it  causes  real  inconvenience  to 
our  women,  and  gives  the  impres- 
sion that  the  Magazine  representa- 
tive is  not  interested  in  them. 

In  conclusion,  let  us  remember 
that  the  Magazine  representative 
should  carry  into  the  homes  she 
visits  a  spirit  of  enthusiasm,  sincer- 
ity, cheerfulness,  and  a  true  consid- 
eration for  the  feelings  of  the  wom- 
en. We  should  keep  in  mind  that 
it  is  far  more  important  to  make  a 
friend  than  to  make  a  sale. 


Sixty    Ljears  J^go 

Excerpts  From  the  Woman's  Exponent,  March  1,  and  March  15,  1896 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

THE  EXPONENT  IN  ENGLAND:  There  are  a  great  many  women  in  the 
Church  in  England,  both  old  and  young,  who  would  be  highly  delighted  and  benefited, 
could  they  have  the  opportunity  of  perusing  your  excellent  publication,  many,  yes  many, 
of  these  sisters  are  unable  to  subscribe,  and  are  literally  starving  for  faith  promoting  and 
encouraging  literature  suitable  to  their  sex  ...  .  Can  the  blessed,  yes  thiice  blessed 
sisters  in  Zion  not  do  something  ...  if  only  to  have  a  copy  of  the  Exponent  placed  on 
file  in  every  conference  house  in  the  missions  of  the  world  .  .  .  ? 

— H.  A.  Tuckett 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  IN  WAYNE  STAKE:  The  Relief  Society  of  Wayne  Stake 
held  Conference  Nov.  29th,  1895,  in  the  Loa  Relief  Society  Hall  ....  Counselor  Mary 
E.  Hanks  was  pleased  to  meet  with  the  sisters,  said:  "If  we  all  have  a  prayerful  heart, 
such  things  will  be  said  that  will  be  beneficial  to  all.  We  are  living  in  a  day  and  age 
when  there  are  great  improvements,  therefore  it  behooves  us  to  improve  ourselves  in 
every  way  possible,  prepare  ourselves  to  bring  forth  mighty  men  and  women.  It  is  a 
great  joy  when  mothers  see  their  sons  promoted  to  higher  priesthoods.  We  should  en- 
courage our  children  to  read  good  books  .  .  .  ." 

— Anna  Coleman,  Sec. 

FADED  FACES 

Oh!  The  mothers  of  men:  What  a  toilsome  life, 
Is  theirs  from  their  early  years. 
And  the  pitying  father  must  look  down, 
And  prepare  for  such  a  glorious  crown 
Where  is  found  no  sorrow  or  tears  .... 

The  countenance  then  will  shine  as  the  sun, 
Being  glorious  to  behold, 
As  robed  in  white  'round  the  throne  of  God, 
Having  passed  from  under  affliction's  rod 
No  more  to  grow  wrinkled  and  old  .... 

— Mary  A.  Freeze 

QUEEN  VICTORIA:  Queen  Victoria  has  67  living  descendants.  And  yet  they 
say  that  if  women  are  allowed  to  take  part  in  politics,  the  human  race  will  die  out! 

— Selected 

KINDERGARTEN  EDUCATION:  Fair  Utah  which  abounds  in  children  ought 
not  to  be  behind  in  progressive  work  in  this  direction  ....  Women  cannot  too  soon 
urge  upon  legislators  and  school  boards  the  quality  and  excellence  of  the  Kindergarten. 
Froebel  the  originator  of  this  system  in  his  trumpet-call  to  the  mothers  of  Germany  says, 
"Come  let  us  live  with  the  children";  and  as  every  mother  should  live  with  her  children, 
and  many  mothers  are  severely  puzzled  to  know  what  to  do  with  the  children  and  how 
best  to  train  and  manage  them,  the  mothers  are  the  ones  who  should  become  kinder- 
garten educators,  and  the  young  women  of  today  can  find  no  better  field  or  profession 
than  the  kindergarten  affords. 

— Editorial 

Page  170 


Woman's  Sphere 


Ramona  W.  Cannon 


OELLE  S.  SPAFFORD,  general 
president  of  Relief  Society,  has 
been  appointed  a  member  of  the 
National  Board  of  the  American 
Mothers  Committee,  the  organiza- 
tion which  selects  the  American 
Mother  of  the  Year.  The  objectives 
of  the  Committee  are:  "1.  To  de- 
velop and  strengthen  the  moral  and 
spiritual  fibre  of  the  American 
home;  2.  To  give  to  the  observance 
of  Mother's  Day  a  spiritual  quality 
which  highlights  the  standards  of 
ideal  Motherhood  and  recognizes 
the  important  role  of  the  Mother  in 
the  Home,  the  Community,  the 
Nation  and  the  World." 

\\70MEN  now  serving  in  the 
Congress  of  the  United  States 
are  equally  divided  between  Demo- 
crats and  Republicans,  eight  women 
representing  each  party.  Of  the 
total  number  of  women  who  have 
ever  served  in  Congress,  the  Demo- 
crats have  sent  thirty-six  and  the 
Republicans  twenty-four.  Twenty- 
one  women  succeeded  their  hus- 
bands, and  one  succeeded  her  fa- 
ther. The  other  thirty-eight  wom- 
en legislators  were  elected  "on 
their  own." 

ORINCESS  MARGARET  ROSE, 

of    Great    Britain,    was    named 

Woman  of  the  Year  bv  the  women 

editors  of  the  Associated  Press  news- 


papers of  America  because  she  re- 
nounced her  personal  happiness  (a 
marriage  with  Group  Captain  Peter 
Townsend)  in  favor  of  duty  to 
church,  state,  and  family.  Grace  Kel- 
ly placed  first  in  the  field  of  acting; 
Clare  Boothe  Luce  in  politics;  sev- 
enty-five-year-old Helen  Keller  in 
the  field  of  service;  Babe  Zaharias  in 
sports;  Anne  Morrow  Lindbergh  in 
writing  (Gift  horn  the  Sea);  Oveta 
Culp  Hobby  in  the  field  of  educa- 
tion; Bernice  Fitz-Gibbon  in  the 
field  of  advertising. 

OIRTHDAY  congratulations  are 
extended  to:  Mrs.  Augusta 
Jacobson  Sward,  Provo,  Utah,  nine- 
ty-seven; Mrs.  Mary  E.  Giauque 
Hodge,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  nine- 
ty-five; Mrs.  Lorine  I.  Higbee, 
Toquerville,  Utah,  ninety-four;  Mrs. 
Lovisa  G.  Davis,  St.  Anthony,  Ida- 
ho, ninety-four;  Mrs.  Carrie  Jensen 
Thomas,  Logan,  Utah,  ninety-one; 
and  the  following  women  who  have 
reached  their  ninetieth  birthdays: 
Mrs.  Mary  Swensen,  Hyrum,  Utah; 
Mrs.  Brita  Lundgren,  Salt  Lake 
City,  Utah;  Mrs.  Nelsmine  (Min- 
nie) Weibel,  Los  Angeles,  Cali- 
fornia; Mrs.  Pamela  Thompson 
Smith,  Centerville,  Utah;  Miss 
Alice  Smith,  Logan,  Utah;  Mrs. 
Catherine  Warren  Bennett,  Poca- 
tello,  Idaho. 

Page  171 


EDITORIAL 


VOL   43 


MARCH   1956 


NO.  3 


cJhe   (constitution  of  IKelief  Society 


"DECENTLY  a  question  was  asked 
by  a  Church  member,  "Well, 
just  why  is  Relief  Society  the  great- 
est women's  organization  in  the 
world?" 

The  answer  from  a  devoted  Relief 
Society  member  came  promptly. 
"There  are  other  organizations  with 
worthwhile  purposes,  it  is  true,  but 
none  other  is  instructed  by  the 
Priesthood  of  God,  nor  does  any 
one  other  combine  the  character- 
istics of  Relief  Society. 

"Relief  Society  gives  instruction 
in  theology,  and  thus  develops  and 
strengthens  individual  testimonies 
of  the  gospel.  In  addition,  Relief 
Society  teaches  and  encourages  a 
higher  concept  of  wifehood,  mother- 
hood, and  homemaker,  at  the  same 
time  offering  training  and  refine- 
ment through  a  study  of  great  litera- 
ture. Relief  Society  makes  women 
better  citizens  and  community  im- 
provers through  study  in  the  social 
science  field.  All  these  studies  as 
carried  on,  are  approved  by  the 
Priesthood  —  thus  further  imple- 
menting the  words  of  the  Prophet 
Joseph  at  the  organization  of  Relief 
Society: 

You  will  receive  instructions  through 
the  order  of  the  Priesthood  which  God 
has  established,  through  the  medium  of 
those  appointed  to  lead,  guide  and  direct 
the  affairs  of  the  Church  in  this  last  dis- 
pensation .  .  .  (D.  H.  C.  IV,  page  607). 

Page  172 


"Then,"  the  speaker  continued, 
"there  is  the  great  opportunity  for 
service,  in  addition  to  all  the  formal 
instruction.  Any  member  may  be 
called  upon  to  perform  services  for 
others  by  the  president,  or  by  mem- 
bers of  the  presidency.  And  here 
again,"  the  sister  leaned  forward  in 
her  intensity,  "the  manner  in  which 
the  leaders  are  chosen  is  unique 
with  women's  organizations.  There 
is  never  any  jockeying  for  position. 
The  president  is  chosen  by  the  gov- 
erning Priesthood,  and  she  chooses 
her  counselors  (vice  presidents  they 
would  be  called  in  other  women's 
organizations ) ,  with  the  approval  of 
the  Priesthood.  The  manner  in 
which  they  are  chosen  marks  them 
as  being  called  of  the  Lord  through 
his  servants,  and  thus  complete  ac- 
ceptance of  their  positions  and  the 
way  they  conduct  the  affairs  of  the 
Society  is  accorded  by  the  member- 
ship. 

"Let  me  remind  you,"  the  sister 
continued,  "of  what  the  Prophet 
Joseph  Smith  said  of  the  general 
presidency  of  Relief  Society  in 
Nauvoo.  You  may  recall  that  Eliza 
R.  Snow  had  been  asked  to  draw 
up  a  constitution  and  a  set  of  by- 
laws to  give  to  the  Prophet  for  his 
acceptance  in  setting  up  a  women's 
organization.  He,  however,  while 
commending  the  sisters  on  the  ex- 
cellence of  the  articles,  said,  The 


EDITORIAL 


173 


Lord  has  something  better  for  you 
than  a  written  constitution,  and 
then  he  appointed  the  17th  of 
March  as  the  time  of  the  first  meet- 
ing/ 

"During  the  organization  pro- 
ceedings, the  Prophet  told  them 
what  their  Constitution  would  be: 

Let  this  presidency  serve  as  a  Constitu- 
tion— all  their  decisions  be  considered  law, 
and  acted  upon  as  such  .  .  .  The  min- 
utes of  your  meetings  will  be  precedent 
for  you  to  act  upon  —  your  Constitution 
and  law  (A  Centenary  of  Relief  Society, 
page  15). 

"PROM  that  time  this  has  been 
the  proper  order.  Over  the  years, 
under  the  direction  of  the  presiding 
Priesthood,  decisions  of  the  general 
presidency  have  formed  the  prece- 
dents under  which  the  Society  has 
progressed.  True,  being  organized 
'under  the  Priesthood  and  after  a 
pattern  of  the  Priesthood/  the  gen- 
eral presidency  has  a  board  appoint- 
ed to  share  the  work  and  assist  in 
the  planning,  conducting,  and  carry- 
ing out  of  the  general  objectives,  but 
the  Constitution  remains  the  presi- 
dency of  the  organization  and  their 
decisions,  and  minutes  of  the  board 
are  the  precedents  which  constitute 
the  by-laws  of  the  organization. 
"Certainly,"  the  speaker  empha- 


sized, "this  pattern  formed  under  in- 
spiration by  a  Prophet  of  the  Lord, 
has  guided  the  Society  to  its  pres- 
ent heights  of  being  the  greatest 
woman's  organization  in  the  world. 
In  a  spirit  of  humility  and  service, 
and  in  recognition  of  its  divine  be- 
ginnings and  its  continued  growth 
under  subsequent  and  present 
Church  Priesthood  guidance,  it  is 
inevitably  pre-eminent.  Nowhere 
else  has  a  woman's  organization  had 
such  a  beginning  nor  such  a  history. 
And  it  will  always  be  so,"  this  de- 
voted Relief  Society  member  fin- 
ished. "It  will  spread  as  the  Church 
spreads  and  become  greater  and 
more  powerful,  so  long  as  the  grand 
key-words,  given  Relief  Society  by 
the  Prophet  Joseph  Smith,  are  fol- 
lowed: 'Said  Jesus,  Ye  shall  do  the 
work  which  ye  see  me  do/  ' 

"Relief  Society's  true  greatness 
rests  upon  the  service  it  gives  to  the 
Church  and  to  one's  neighbor.  And 
I  just  wish,"  concluded  the  speaker, 
"that  the  other  half  of  the  women 
of  the  Church  realized  the  privileges 
and  blessings  which  come  to  Relief 
Society  members,  and  that  all 
Church  women  would  join  Relief 
Society  and  assist  in  its  God-given 

work." 

-M.  C.  S. 


cJ emote  Sc 


'empie  square 

Leone  E.  McCune 

Here  in  the  busy  city's  heart 

High  wall,  enclosed,  and  set  apart; 

Quiet,  serene,  in  summer's  beauty  dressed, 

Silent  and  hushed  in  snows  of  winter  blessed. 

Pipe  organ  music  floats  about  the  grounds; 

With  words  of  prayer  and  praise  the  place  resounds, 

And  people  come  from  far  and  near 
Its  unique  messages  to  hear. 


an  m 


e  mo  nam 


—  (charlotte   v^/wens  Sackett 


/^HARLOTTE  Owens  Sackett,  seventy-eight,  died  in  Salt  Lake  City, 
Utah,  January  24,  1956.  A  beloved  Relief  Society  "Singing  Mother," 
this  devoted  sister  gave  freely  of  her  lovely  talents  and  her  thorough  musical 
education  in  training  and  inspiring  hundreds  of  Relief  Society  singers.  In 
April  1932,  the  Liberty  Stake  (Salt  Lake  City,  Utah)  chorus  of  selected 
voices  from  the  various  wards,  and  directed  by  Sister  Sackett,  furnished  the 
music  for  Relief  Society  general  conference.  After  this  successful  appear- 
ance, the  chorus  was  sponsored  by  the  general  board,  more  singers  were 
added,  and  Sister  Sackett  was  appointed  director  of  the  combined  choruses. 
This  group  furnished  music  for  the  general  conference  of  the  Church  in 
April  1933,  appearing  under  the  name  of  "Singing  Mothers"  —  a  dear 
name  —  which  has  been  greatly  multiplied  and  has  been  given  to  ward  and 
stake  and  mission  Relief  Society  singers  throughout  the  Church. 

The  beautiful  soprano  voice  of  Sister  Sackett  will  long  be  remembered, 
and  the  inspiration  of  her  direction  will  be  as  a  lasting  heritage  for  the 
Singing  Mothers  in  years  to  come. 


Vhot&A, 


TO  THE  FIELD 


Kyrgantzattons  and  LKeorga taxations  of  Stake 
ana    1 1 itsston  uieltef  Societies  for  iQ55 


Stakes 
East  Mesa 

Grand  Junction 

Honolulu 
New  Orleans 


Redondo 
Rose  Park 

Missions 
Gulf  States 


ORGANIZATIONS 

Formerly  Part  of 


Mesa  and  Maricopa 

Stakes 
Western  States 

Mission 
Oahu  Stake 
Texas-Louisiana  and 

Southern  States 

Mission 
Inglewood  Stake 
Riverside  Stake 


Appointed  President       Date  Appointed 
Reta  M.  Reed  November  20,  1955 

Evelyn  T.  McKinnon     October  16,  1955 


Miriam  W.  Knapp 
Dolores  Cluff  Fife 


Magdalen  W.  Lake 
Betty  Jo  Reiser 


Phyllis  D.  Smith 
continued  as 
president 


(Name  changed  from 
Texas-Louisiana 
Mission ) 
Northern  Far  East  (Created  from  former      Hazel  M.  Robertson 

Japanese  Mission) 
South  Australian      Australian  Mission  Adelphia  Durrant 

Bingham 
Southern  Far  East    (Created  from  former       Roxey  Luana  C. 
Japanese  Mission)  Heaton 

Page  174 


September  15,  1955 
July  1,  1955 


June  6,  1955 
October  28,  1955 


June  19,  1955 

September  1,  1955 
September  1,  1955 
September  1,  1955 


NOTES  TO  THE  FIELD 


175 


Stakes 
Bakersfield 

Bear  River 

Big  Horn 

Blaine 

Bonneville 

Cache 

Cannon 

East  Jordan 

East  Long  Beach 

East  Phoenix 

East  Riverside 

Emery 

Garfield 

Grant 

Las  Vegas 

Lehi 

Logan 

Malad 

Maricopa 

Mount  Ogden 

Nevada 

Nyssa 

Oahu 

Oakland 

Panguitch 

Redondo 

Rigby 

Riverside 

Roosevelt 

Salmon  River 

San  Joaquin 

San  Joaquin 

Santaquin-Tintic 

Seattle 

South  Box  Elder 

South  Carolina 

South  Sevier 

Spokane 
Wayne 
West  Jordan 


Missions 


REORGANIZATIONS 

Released  President         Appointed  President      Date  Appointed 


Australian 
British 
California 
Canadian 
Central  American 
Central  Atlantic 

States 
East  Central  States 
Eastern  States 


Arlene  P.  Sutton 

(Died  May  10,  '55) 
Ruby  W.  Nielson 
Amelia  H.  Robertson 
Fawn  N.  Dilworth 
Mary  R.  Young 
Inez  B.  Tingey 
Mabel  H.  Miller 
Grace  G.  Thornton 
Betsy  McNey 
Lola  M.  Shumway 
Bernice  S.  Anderson 
Surelda  C.  Ralphs 
Alta  S.  Wiltshire 
Lorena  Harline 
Alice  Alldredge 
Lileth  Peck 
La  Vera  W.  Coombs 
Hanna  S.  Harris 
Esther  Miller 
Cleone  R.  Eccles 
Sylvia  Johnson 
Emma  D.  Chytraus 
Miriam  W.  Knapp 
Delia  W.  Swensen 
Cleo  V.  Hatch 
Magdalen  W.  Lake 
Nita  J.  Jorgensen 
Drusilla  B.  Newman 
LaRue  O.  Nixon 
Elizabeth  G.  Hoggan 
Venice  J.  Ricks 

(Died  July  20,  '55) 
Sylvia  R.  Stone 
Josephine  C.  Crook 
Birdie  S.   Bean 
Ezma  L.  Knudson 
Alice  Voyles 
Montez  O. 

Christiansen 
Edna  H.  Bennion 
La  Veil  King 
Dora  B.  Callicott 


Elizabeth  W.  Winn       June  26,  1955 


Cora  L.  Nielson 
Helena  D.  Belnap 
Donna  Lou  Thorne 
Cora  Jenkins 
Pearl  A.  Heaton 
Eva  H.  Stevenson 
Celeste  D.  Millerberg 
LaPrele  Mertz 
Lola  L.  Green 
Stake  Disorganized 
Myrle  B.  Johansen 
Gwen  H.  Lyman 
Virginia  Newbold 
Myrtle  George 
Ruby  M.  Nielsen 
Gwen  J.  Miner 
Nellie  S.  Gleed 
Mildred  B.  Jarvis 
Ardella  H.  Stevens 
Christie  L.  Haynes 
Lynile  Buhler 
Eugenia  N.  Logan 
Annabelle  W.  Hart 
Alta  S.  Wiltshire 
June  Baggett 
Hope  Beus 
Luella  M.  Buchi 
Minnie  Angus 
Louise  Arave 
Sylvia  R.  Stone 


May  1,  1955 
August  28,  1955 
May  87  1955  " 
May  15,  1955 
September  19,  1955 
September  7,  1955 
August  14,  1955 
September  8,  1955 
September  9,  1955 
October  9,   1955 
April  14,  1955 
December  4,  1955 
June  26,  1955 
August  21,   1955 
May  87  1955 
September  4,  1955 
March  27,  1955 
May  8,  1955 
September  4,  1955 
September  1,  1955 
June  19,  1955 
September  15,  1955 
September  4,  1955 
November  6,  1955 
July   28,   1955 
February  20,  1955 
November  1,  1955 
October  16,  1955 
March  20,  1955 
August  2,  1955 


Margaret  R.  Marchant   September  87  1955 


Fern  Horton 
Leora  G.  Clawson 
Edith  E.  Baddley 
Annie  H.  Capps 
Faye  K.  Nielson 

Zelda  S.  Conrad 
Thora  Jackson 
Mae  C.  Johnson 


September  18,  1955 
February  27,  1955 
August  28,  1955 
July  10,  1955 
April  24,  1955 

January  16,  1955 
September  25,  1955 
May  22,  1955 


MISSIONS 


Released  President         Appointed  President       Date    Appointed 


Leah  B.  Liljenquist 
Elizabeth  B.  Reiser 
LaPriel  S.  Bunker 
Anna  H.  Toone 
Elizabeth  W.  Romney 
Mabel  M.  Nalder 


Irene  Toone  Erekson 
Irene  P.  Kerr 
Alta  H.  Taylor 
Leah  H.  Lewis 
Gladvs  K.  Wagner 
Lovell  W.  Smith 


June  23,  1955 
October  19,  1955 
September  18,  1955 
October  19,  1955 
October  19,  1955 
September  14,  1955 


Adriana  M.  Zappey         Marie  Curtis  Richards   February  25,  1955 
Eva  C.  Taylor  Florence  S.  Jacobsen      July  19,  1955 


176 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


Missions 

New  England 
New  Zealand 
Northern  Far  East 
Northwestern  States 
Southern  States 
Southwest  Indian 
Tahitian 

Tongan 
Uruguayan 


Released  President         Appointed  President      Date    Appointed 


Hattie  B.  Maughan 
Alice  W.  Ottley 
Hazel  M.  Robertson 
Mavil  A.  McMurrin 
Emily  E.  Ricks 
Thelma  S.  Buchanan 
Frankie  G.  Orton 

Joan  W.  Coombs 
Afton  K.  Shreeve 


Margaret  R.  Jackson 
Arta  Romney  Ballif 
Frances  P.  Andrus 
Effie  K.  Driggs 
Lucile  W.  Bunker 
Lavena  L.  Rohner 
Dorothy  Pope 
Christensen 
Sylvia  R.  Stone 
Louise  Bush  Parry 


August  29,  1955 
March  17,  1955 
November  12,  1955 
September  29,  1955 
October  19,  1955 
June  23,  1955  ' 
June  2,  1955 

October  19,  1955 
August  12,  1955 


cJ-ndex  for  1Q55  [Relief  Society    ulagazine  istvailable 

/^OPIES  of  the  1955  index  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazines  are  available 

and  may  be  ordered  from  the  General  Board  of  Relief  Society,  40  North 
Main  Street,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah.    The  price  is  15c,  including  postage. 

Relief  Society  officers  and  members  who  wish  to  have  their  1955 
issues  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  bound  may  do  so  through  the 
Deseret  News  Press,  31  Richards  Street,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah.  The  cost 
for  binding  the  twelve  issues  in  a  permanent  cloth  binding  is  $2.50,  in- 
cluding the  index.  If  leather  binding  is  preferred,  the  cost  is  $3.50,  in- 
cluding the  index.  These  prices  do  not  include  postage,  and  an  additional 
amount  to  cover  postage  must  accompany  all  orders  for  binding  of  the 
Magazines.  See  schedules  of  postage  rates  in  this  issue  of  the  Magazine, 
page  209. 

If  bound  volumes  are  desired,  and  the  Magazines  cannot  be  supplied 
by  the  person  making  the  request,  the  Magazines  will  be  supplied  for  $1.50 
by  the  Magazine  Department,  General  Board  of  Relief  Society,  40  North 
Main  Street,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah.  Only  a  limited  number  of  Magazines 
are  available  for  binding. 

It  is  suggested  that  all  wards  and  stakes  have  one  volume  of  the  1955 
Magazines  bound  for  preservation  in  ward  and  stake  Relief  Society  libraries. 


K/Lnriouricing  the  Special  ^Jxpnl  Short  Story  Hi 


ssue 


HTHE  April  1956  issue  of  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  will  be  the  special 
short  story  number,  with  four  outstanding  stories  being  presented. 
Look  for  these  stories  in  April : 

"A  Full  Hive,"  by  Dorothy  Clapp  Robinson 

"To  You,  Beloved,"  by  Lois  E.  Fockner 

"Lesson  From  Letty,"  by  Arlene  D.  Cloward 

"The  Day  Before  the  Wedding/'  by  Dorothy  Boys  Kilian 


Springtime  o/s  CJun-cJime 


Helen  B.  Morris 


LADY  Spring  has  made  her  debut.  The  frogs  are  no  longer  icebound  and  can  be 
seen  hopping  under  furry  pussy-willow  trees.  Coats  of  mottled  hue  have  been 
gladly  donned  by  all  the  members  of  the  vulnerable  rabbit  kingdom.  All  except  the 
Easter  rabbit,  that  is.  His  white  coat  is  in  tiptop  condition  and  his  pink  eyes  are  shin- 
ing their  delight.    His  heyday  is  just  around  the  corner. 

Our  youngsters  are  joyfully  sharing  nature's  delights,  and  spring  will  be  more  de- 
lightful, if  we  help  them  plan  a  party  for  Saturday  afternoon,  the  day  before  Easter. 
Parties  mean  food,  and  food  means  plans.     Let  us  help  you  with  yours. 

Suppose  we  serve  refreshments  buffet  style.  To  give  the  table  the  gay  expression 
of  spring,  try  this.  First,  cover  it  with  a  white  cloth.  Then,  for  an  unusual  and  at- 
tractive centerpiece,  fill  a  large  glass  bowl  with  cold  water.  Add  to  the  water  a  few 
drops  of  lavendar  food  coloring.  Next  add  four  teaspoons  baking  soda  and  two  tea- 
spoons citric  acid,  which  may  be  obtained  at  very  small  cost  at  any  drugstore.  (Almost 
any  proportions  will  work,  so  long  as  they  are  in  sufficient  quantities.)  Now,  drop  a 
dozen  or  more  moth  balls  into  this  solution.  After  a  few  minutes,  they  will  begin  to 
travel  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  of  the  bowl.  To  add  that  finishing  touch,  float  a 
daffodil  blossom  or  two  on  top  of  your  "fountain."  Everyone  will  be  curious  and 
wonder  if  you  have  resorted  to  witchcraft. 

On  each  side  of  this  centerpiece,  near  the  ends  of  the  table,  place  bouquets  of 
fresh  daffodils  accented  with  a  few  twigs  of  pussy  willow. 

Even  this  attraction  won't  satisfy  sharp  appetites.  Let's  serve  ice-cream  sundaes 
topped  with  pineapple,  a  maraschino  cherry,  and  egg-shaped  cookies  decorated  with 
bright-colored  icings. 

Here's  how  to  make  an  Easter  bunny  favor  to  place  on  the  plate  with  the  re- 
freshments. Join  marshmallows  together  with  toothpicks,  using  one  for  the  head  and 
two  for  the  body,  one  for  each  leg,  and  a  half  marshmallow  for  each  arm.  Make  ears 
from  plain  white  paper  and  color  the  centers  pink.  Draw  the  face  with  blue  and  red 
food  coloring.    Make  red  crosses  down  the  front  to  represent  buttons. 

Serve  these  refreshments,  along  with  your  favorite  beverage,  on  your  festive  table,  and 
you  will  have  an  Easter  party  to  remember! 

Page  177 


LKectpes  Qjrora   [Brazil 

Submitted  by  Asael  T.  Soreiisen 
Can j a  (Brazilian  Chicken  Soup) 

i  large  fowl  1  sprig  parsley 

1   tablespoon  chopped  onion  1  leek 

salt  to  taste  chives 

1  tablespoon  butter  2  carrots 

Clean  the  chicken  and  cut  it  in  pieces.  Saute  the  onion  in  the  butter;  add  the 
chicken  and  simmer  without  letting  it  get  too  dark.  Cover  with  water,  add  salt,  parsley, 
carrots,  chives,  and  leek.  Cook  until  the  chicken  is  tender,  strain  the  broth  through  a 
sieve;  remove  bones  and  skin  from  chicken  and  cut  it  in  2-inch  pieces.  To  about  three 
and  a  half  pints  of  broth,  add  i  cup  of  well-washed  rice.  Let  it  cook,  and,  when  nearly 
done,  add  the  pieces  of  chicken  and  some  salt,  if  necessary.  The  soup  should  be  yel- 
low and  not  too  thick.  Remove  fat,  if  there  is  too  much.  The  rice  cooks  quickly.  For 
more  color,  add  one  large  tomato. 

Shrimps  a  Bahiana 

4  pounds  shrimps  6  small  tomatoes 

l  tablespoon  fat  (preferably  oil)  Vi    tablespoon  flour 

l   chopped  onion  Vi    tablespoon  butter 
parsley  2  small  hot  peppers 

Peel  and  clean  the  shrimps.  Saute  onion,  tomatoes,  and  parsley  in  the  fat;  add 
shrimps  and  simmer.  Melt  the  butter  and  flour;  add  I  cup  of  water  and  pour  this  mix- 
ture over  the  shrimps.  Boil  for  a  few  minutes.  This  dish  is  even  better  when  the 
milk  of  one  coconut  is  added  instead  of  water.  If  you  like  it  hot,  add  the  two  small 
hot  peppers.    Serve  with  rice. 

Feijoada  Completa  (Brazilian  Dish  of  Black  Beans) 

The  day  before  the  "Feijoada"  wash  several  times  in  lukewarm  water: 

2  pounds  of  salt  pork  1 50  grams  bacon 
2  pounds  of  dried  meat  (carne  seca)  1  salted  tongue 

2  pounds  of  seasoned  Brazilian  pork  pork  ears,  tails,  etc. 

sausage  (linguica) 

(For  a  good  "Feijoada"  about  15  kinds  of  meat  should  be  used.) 

Leave  all  meat  covered  with  water  overnight.  Also  wash  2  or  more  pounds  of 
black  beans,  having  picked  out  all  empty  shells  or  little  stones  that  might  be  between 
them.     Cover  with  water  and  let  stand  overnight. 

On  the  morning  of  the  "Feijoada"  put  all  the  well-drained  meat  and  the  black 
beans  in  a  big  kettle  and  cover  with  the  water  they  were  standing  in  overnight;  add  two 
pounds  of  fresh  pork  meat  and  two  pounds  of  fresh  beef  (neck).  Let  everything  boil 
slowly  for  several  hours,  adding  warm  water  to  it  occasionally  until  the  black  beans  are 
well  cooked. 

Melt  two  tablespoons  of  fat  in  a  frying  pan,  add  chopped  onions,  parsley,  some 

Page  178 


RECIPES  FROM  BRAZIL  179 

tomatoes,  1  bay  leaf,  and  two  cloves  of  garlic,  well  mashed;  take  a  small  portion  of 
the  black  beans  with  the  skimmer-spoon  and  add  them  to  this  mixture.  Saute  every- 
thing, mash  it  with  a  rammer,  and  return  it  to  the  big  kettle.  Let  it  thicken,  but  be 
careful  that  it  does  not  burn  at  the  bottom  of  the  pan. 

When  ready  to  serve,  carefully  lift  the  meat  out  of  the  pan,  carve  it  and  arrange 
it  on  a  big  platter,  the  tongue  in  the  middle,  the  dried  and  salted  meat  on  one  side, 
the  fresh  beef  on  the  other.  Serve  the  black  beans  in  a  soup  tureen.  Serve  with  rice, 
and  small  hot  pepper  sauce.  Have  peeled  and  sliced  oranges  on  the  table  to  go  with 
the  "Feijoada." 

To  cook  the  rice: 

Pick  the  rice  over  and  wash  it.  Brown  1  chopped  onion,  1  clove  of  garlic,  and 
from  1  to  6  tomatoes  (according  to  size)  in  3  tablespoons  lard.  Add  the  rice  and  stir 
it  until  it  browns.  Add  boiling  water  (for  2  lbs.  of  rice  about  8  cups  of  water)  and 
let  it  boil  on  a  slow  fire  for  about  Vi  hour.  When  it  is  almost  dry,  cover  the  saucepan 
and  let  it  boil  a  little  longer.    Take  it  off  the  fire. 


(comforter 


Catherine  B.  Bowles 

The  quilt  my  Grandma  gave  to  me — 

Gay  patchwork  made  of  tiny  squares, 

Each  block  delightful  to  behold; 

Each  held  a  story  often  told; 

Some  patches  were  not  made  quite  true, 

Uneven  stitches,  here  and  there. 

The  hand  was  shaky,  wrinkled,  old, 

But  the  love  she  stitched  cannot  be  told. 

Sometimes  my  searching  mind 
Seems  almost  like  the  patchwork  quilt. 
Some  parts  are  made  of  love  and  cheer, 
With  darker  ones  of  doubt  and  fear; 
Some  streaked  with  mildew  from  my  tears 
Heartache  and  anguish  through  the  years. 
Each  day  has  left  a  silent  trace, 
So  clearly  mirrored  in  my  face. 

But  the  soul  my  Father  gave  to  me 
Will  live  throughout  eternity. 


JLife  0/5  JLtke  a  [Pattern 

Anne  S.  \V.  Gould 

i  IFE  is  like  taking  a  journey,  the  scenery  is  always  changing.  We  may  have  to  go 
y*  through  the  desert,  but  it  doesn't  always  stay  desert,  and  even  in  the  desert  there 
is  some  loveliness,  if  we  are  on  the  lookout  for  it. 


Strange  Land  of  the  Chiricahuas 


Nell  Murbarger 


WITH  their  lofty  summits  ris- 
ing nearly  10,000  feet  above 
sea  level,  the  Chiricahua 
Mountains  spring  from  the  sur- 
rounding aridity  like  a  moist  and 
verdant  island.  Grown  to  ferns  and 
flowers  and  tall  evergreens,  this  un- 
usual retreat  in  southeastern  Arizona 
is  a  far  different  place  than  one  ordi- 
narily expects  to  find  in  a  desert 
region  only  a  few  minutes  drive 
from  the  Mexican  border. 

Little  changed  physically  since 
those  rugged  days  of  nearly  a  cen- 
tury ago,  when  these  canyons 
served  as  a  stronghold  for  the  Apa- 
che war  lords,  Cochise  and  Geroni- 
mo,  the  Chiricahuas  are  still  large- 
ly inaccessible  save  by  steep,  dim 
trails,  and  sure-footed  mountain 
horses.  Fortunately  for  auto  travel- 
ers, the  one  improved  road  that 
crosses  the  range  gives  entry  to  the 
most  scenic  portion  of  the  entire 
mountain  chain  —  an  area  that  em- 
braces so  many  unusual  features  that 
seventeen  square  miles  of  it  were 
set  aside  by  President  Coolidge,  in 
1924,  as  Chiricahua  National  Mon- 
ument. 

Whether  a  visitor's  interest  lies 
in  botany,  bird  study,  geology,  pho- 
tography, mountain  climbing,  or 
frontier  history,  this  strange  land 
has  more  to  offer  the  vacationist 
than  almost  any  other  American 
area  of  comparable  size.  Regard- 
less of  its  other  attractions,  how- 
ever, its  dominant  feature  must  for- 
ever be  its  spectacular  rock  forma- 
tions. Carved  by  time  and  weather 
into  thousands  of  fantastic  shapes, 

Page  180 


these  gigantic  pillars  rise  like  senti- 
nels above  the  enveloping  forest, 
serrating  the  ridge-tops,  overshad- 
owing the  public  campground,  and 
flanking  every  mile  of  highway  and 
hiking  trail  that  winds  through  the 
Monument. 

To  some  of  these  sculptured 
forms  have  been  given  such  de- 
scriptive names  as  Chinese  Boy, 
Donald  Duck,  The  Anvil,  Baked 
Potato,  Old  Devil  Face,  Praying 
Padre,  The  Bishop,  Trior's  Ham- 
mer, The  Old  Maid,  Kissing  Rocks, 
Queen  Victoria,  Punch  and  Judy, 
Chinese  Wall,  and  The  Mushroom; 
but  tens  of  thousands  of  other 
sculpturings  are  as  yet  unnamed. 

Of  all  the  peculiar  formations  in 
Chiricahua  National  Monument, 
none  possesses  greater  fascination 
than  the  scores  of  balanced  rocks, 
the  most  spectacular  one  of  which 
measures  twenty-five  feet  in  height 
and  twenty  feet  broad,  with  a  weight 
officially  estimated  at  625  tons!  This 
gigantic  boulder  stands  perched  on 
a  stem  only  four  feet  across  at  its 
point  of  contact,  and  the  slightest 
earth  tremor  would  be  seemingly 
sufficient  to  send  it  crashing  earth- 
ward. Two  hundred  yards  and  sev- 
eral hundred  exclamations  distant, 
stands  Pinnacle  Balanced  Rock  — 
twice  as  high  as  broad,  but  with  a 
base  little  wider  than  a  man's 
shoulders! 

These  balanced  boulders,  like  oth- 
er formations  in  the  Monument, 
are  a  result  of  erosive  forces;  and 
although  no  man  can  say  how  many 
hundreds   of   years   have   been   re- 


STRANGE  LAND  OF  THE  CHIRICAHUAS 


181 


Nell  Murbarger 

DUCK  ON-A-ROCK  IN  CHIRICAHUA   NATIONAL  MONUMENT,  ARIZONA 


quired  for  the  carving  of  each  rock, 
it  is  known  that  the  weathering  ef- 
fected in  the  span  of  one  human 
lifetime  is  scarcely  discernible  to 
the  eye. 

Although  non-hikers  can  gain  an 
impressive  view  of  the  Monument 
from  the  auto  road  and  the  lookout 
station  at  Massai  Point,  only  per- 
sons with  the  stamina  to  hike  or 
ride  horseback  for  a  few  miles  are 
privileged  to  view  the  "Heart  of 
Rocks"  area  where  the  more  un- 
usual formations  are  centered. 
Fourteen  miles  of  wide,  safe  trails, 
gently-graded  and  well-maintained, 
offer  matchless  sightseeing  trips 
ranging  from  three  to  seven  miles 
in  length.    Guide  service  is  optional. 

TV/IOST  of  the  other  attractions  of- 
fered by  the  Monument  may 
be  enjoyed  without  any  particular 
need   for  exertion.     Flower  lovers 


find  themselves  in  a  leafy  wonder- 
land inhabited  by  more  than  500 
species  of  plants  and  eighty  botan- 
ical families.  Included  in  this  as- 
sortment are  fourteen  species  of 
ferns,  seven  varieties  of  oaks,  and 
nine  different  conifers,  the  latter 
embracing  such  unusual  types  as 
Arizona  cypress,  alligator-barked 
juniper,  and  the  Apache,  Chirica- 
hua,  and  Mexican  pinon  pine,  all 
of  which  are  of  limited  distribution 
in  the  United  States.  According  to 
one  botanical  authority,  the  Chiri- 
cahuas  likely  contain  a  greater  va- 
riety of  plant  life  than  is  to  be 
found  in  any  other  comparable  area 
in  the  United  States. 

The  Monument  also  is  especially 
rich  in  bird  life,  a  few  forms  —  due 
to  long-established  isolation  —  being 
unique  to  this  region.  The  wild 
turkey,  once  plentiful  here,  is  lately 
making  a  gallant  comeback,  and  the 


182 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


thrill  of  hearing  these  great  birds 
gobbling  in  the  trees  on  a  frosty 
autumn  morning  is  an  experience 
never  to  be  forgotten!  Rarest  joy 
the  Monument  can  offer  to  an 
ornithologist  is  the  possibility  of 
seeing  the  coppery-tailed  trogon,  a 
foot-long  bird  with  rainbow-hued 
plumage.  Even  the  thick-billed  par- 
rot occasionally  strays  northward  to 
the  Chiricahuas  from  his  traditional 
home  in  Mexico's  forested  high- 
lands. 

In  the  animal  line,  the  Arizona 
white-tailed  deer  abounds  through- 
out the  Monument,  and  does  and 
fawns  often  come  to  drink  at  a 
spring  near  the  public  campground. 
Tracks  of  bears  and  mountain  lions 
are  occasionally  seen  in  the  higher 
elevations,  and  even  the  jaguar  and 
handsome  Mexican  ocelot  have 
been  glimpsed.  Smaller  animals, 
such  as  squirrels  and  chipmunks, 
are  plentiful. 

Tent  campers  and  trailerists  are 
served  by  a  clean,  well-maintained 
campground,  providing  abundant 
shade,  roomy  spaces,  good  water, 
tables,  outdoor  fireplaces,  showers, 
and  a  laundry  room.  Limited  ac- 
commodations for  non-campers  are 
available    at    several    nearby    guest 


ranches,   where   saddle  horses   and 
guides  also  may  be  obtained. 

Lying  120  miles  east  of  Tucson, 
the  Monument,  from  that  point,  is 
best  reached  via  U.  S.  Highway  80, 
and  State  Routes  86  and  181;  or 
north  from  Douglas  (seventy  miles) 
over  U.  S.  666  and  State  Route  181. 
All  these  routes  are  paved  and  of- 
fer no  steep  grades  of  mountain 
driving. 

Just  across  the  border  from  Doug- 
las (70  miles  south  of  the  Monu- 
ment) lies  the  Mexican  city  of 
Agua  Prieta,  Sonora,  with  its  many 
interesting  curio  shops  and  quaint 
Old- World  charm.  American  citi- 
zens, entering  Mexico  for  one  day 
only,  need  no  passport  or  other  per- 
mit, but  non-citizens  should  dis- 
cuss the  matter  with  United  States 
immigration  authorities  before 
crossing  the  line  and  so  avoid  any 
difficulty  that  might  attend  their 
re-entry  into  the  United  States. 

Further  information  concerning 
this  fascinating  Arizona  vacation 
area,  may  be  had  by  writing  the 
Custodian,  Chiricahua  National 
Monument,  Dos  Cabezas,  Arizona; 
or  the  Chamber  of  Commerce,  at 
Tucson. 


QJtrst  die  raid 


Linnie  F.  Robinson 

The  old,  old  lady  held  the  child 
Close  to  the  pane  where  the  rain  beat  down; 
And  they  stared  at  the  rivulets  running  swift 
On  the  dark  and  sodden  ground. 

Then,  looking  closer,  they  saw  some  green, 
Scarce  more  than  a  blade  of  grass; 
The  babe  smiled  as  at  a  bauble  seen, 
But  a  miracle  to  the  other  had  come  to  pass. 


of  he  [Preparation  and  Serving  of  QJood 

for  JLarge   Leatherings 

Frank  D.  Arnold 

Sanitarian  R.  S.,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah,  Health  Department 


CHURCH  dinners  and  picnics 
have  long  been  recognized  as 
an  important  means  of  rais- 
ing funds  and  promoting  sociability. 
We,  as  Latter-day  Saints,  are  fre- 
quently called  upon  to  assist  in  the 
preparation  and  serving  of  dinners 
and  other  meals  under  a  variety  of 
circumstances.  It  may  be  a  supper 
in  the  recreation  hall,  a  picnic  in 
the  canyon,  refreshments  at  a  dance, 
or  any  one  of  a  number  of  other 
events  common  within  the  activities 
of  our  Church. 

The  preparation  and  serving  of 
food  to  large  numbers  are  often  un- 
dertaken by  the  members  of  the 
Relief  Society.  Feeding  large  num- 
bers of  people  presents  problems 
never  encountered  in  feeding  a 
family.  Even  the  best  of  cafes  and 
restaurants  must  be  continually  alert 
for  a  breakdown  in  standards  of 
cleanliness  and  sanitation.  Precau- 
tions can  usually  be  incorporated 
into  food  planning  without  addi- 
tional expense.  Whether  the  food 
is  prepared  in  the  home,  in  the  ward 
kitchen,  or  elsewhere,  certain  safe- 
guards should  be  taken. 

Proper  refrigeration  is  a  must  for 
safe  food.  Many  cases  of  food  poi- 
soning and  related  diseases  are  di- 
rectly traceable  to  improper  refrig- 
eration. Harmful  bacteria  or  germs 
grow  very  rapidly  at  room  tempera- 
ture. They  have  a  special  liking  for 
foods  that  are  commonly  served  at 
social    meals— chicken    and    turkey 


salads,  a  variety  of  ham  dishes,  dairy 
products,  creamed  foods,  and  cus- 
tard desserts.  These  foods  should  be 
kept  at  temperatures  under  50  de- 
grees F.  Never  let  such  foods  stand 
at  room  temperature  more  than  an 
hour. 

Dishes  and  utensils  must  be  clean 
and  free  from  germs.  Every  dish, 
every  glass,  and  every  utensil  should 
be  washed  and  disinfected.  If  pos- 
sible, dishwashing  should  begin  as 
soon  as  the  first  course  is  completed. 
Silver,  glasses,  and  dishes  should  be 
separated  at  the  serving  tables  or  in 
the  dishwashing  area.  All  dishes 
should  be  scraped  before  being 
passed  to  dishwashers.  Plenty  of 
soap  or  detergent  should  be  used. 
Water  should  be  hot  as  the  hands 
can  stand.  It  should  be  changed 
frequently. 

After  washing,  all  dishes  should 
be  rinsed  in  hot  water  at  180  de- 
grees. This  is  hotter  than  the  hand 
can  stand,  therefore,  a  wire  tray  or 
other  container  should  be  used  for 
immersing  the  dishes.  A  second 
and  equally  satisfactory  method  of 
killing  bacteria  involves  the  use  of 
chemical  disinfectants  such  as  the 
common  household  bleaches  and 
other  chlorine  products.  These  sub- 
stances can  be  added  in  small  quan- 
tities to  the  warm  rinse  water.  Dish- 
es should  be  free  of  soap  before  be- 
ing immersed  in  the  chemical  rinse. 
One  tablespoon  of  household  bleach 
in  each  gallon  of  rinse  water  will  be 

Page  183 


184 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


sufficient.  Ten  gallons  of  water  re- 
quire approximately  one  teacup  of 
sanitizing  solution. 

TF  space  and  facilities  permit,  dish- 
es should  be  allowed  to  air  dry; 
otherwise,  care  must  be  taken  to  use 
plenty  of  dry,  clean  towels. 

Paper  service  may  often  solve 
your  clean-up  problems.  Paper  cups, 
dishes,  plates,  containers  of  all  types, 
paper  tablecloths,  and  napkins  are 
obtainable  in  a  wide  variety  of  sizes 
and  patterns. 

All  food  stored  or  displayed 
should  be  protected  from  dirt  par- 
ticles. Dishes,  glasses,  and  utensils 
must  also  be  protected  from  dust, 
insects,  and  other  contamination  be- 
tween periods  of  use.  If  possible, 
they  should  be  stored  on  covered 
shelves  or  in  cupboards  with  doors. 
If  they  are  stored  for  long  periods 
they  should  be  rinsed  before  use. 

Personal  cleanliness  is  an  im- 
portant factor  in  preventing  the 
spread  of  disease  by  food.  Clean 
hands  are  essential.  Pick  up  spoons, 
knives,  forks  and  cups  by  their 
handles;  dishes  by  their  rims;  and 
glasses  by  the  base.  Never  let  your 
fingers  touch  milk,  water,  soup,  but- 
ter, ice,  meat,  or  dessert.  Hair 
should  be  covered  with  a  hairnet,  a 
cap,  or  other  restraining  devices. 
White  aprons  or  uniforms  may  be 
a  worthwhile  investment  for  the 
ward  kitchen. 

Persons  who  have  a  cold  or  other 
catching  diseases  should  not  be  al- 
lowed to  prepare  or  serve  food. 

All  foods  served  must  be  clean 
and  wholesome.  Milk  should  be 
pasteurized.  Meat  should  be  from 
inspected  sources.  Vegetables  and 
fruit  must  be  clean.     Bakery  prod- 


ucts should  never  be  stale.  Care 
must  be  taken  that  the  water  used 
is  clean  and  pure. 

Foods  should  be  thoroughly 
cooked.  Intense  heat  destroys  bac- 
teria and  other  parasites.  This  is 
especially  important  with  pork 
products.  After  the  food  is  cooked, 
hot  foods  should  be  kept  hot  until 
served.  If  you  use  a  steam  table, 
do  not  let  the  temperature  drop  be- 
low 145  degrees  F. 

Floor  surfaces  should  be  cleaned 
regularly.  The  good,  old-fashioned 
broom  is  still  best  for  sweeping  and 
for  chasing  the  dirt  out  of  the 
corners.  The  use  of  a  sweeping 
compound,  or  water  lightly  sprin- 
kled on  areas  to  be  swept,  will  keep 
dust  down  to  a  minimum. 

Refuse  and  waste  of  all  kinds 
should  be  disposed  of  properly. 
Refuse,  especially  garbage,  which  is 
allowed  to  accumulate  may  soon 
constitute  a  fly  or  rodent  nuisance. 
The  method  of  disposal  may  vary 
from  grinding  by  mechanical  dis- 
posals to  burying  in  the  case  of 
some  outdoor  picnics.  Be  prompt 
and  be  thorough  in  waste  removal. 
The  condition  inside  a  kitchen  may 
often  be  reflected  by  the  conditions 
outside  and  around  the  kitchen.  All 
garbage  containers  should  be  cov- 
ered with  tight-fitting  lids. 

HpHE  fundamentals  of  clean  food 
service  should  be  applied  wher- 
ever food  is  prepared,  stored,  or 
served.  Apply  these  principles  to 
your  everyday  activities  to  insure 
more  healthful  living  for  the  entire 
family,  and  apply  them  when  you 
are  called  to  assist  in  the  food  serv- 
ice of  your  ward  or  stake. 


PREPARATION  AND  SERVING  OF  FOOD  FOR  LARGE  GATHERINGS  185 

TIPS  AND  SUGGESTIONS  FOR  MORE  SUCCESSFUL  MEATS 

These  hints  for  simplifying  and  speeding  planning,  preparation,  and  service  have 
been  gathered  from  authorities  in  the  field  of  large-scale  food  service.  Many  are  based 
on  engineering  and  efficiency  studies  conducted  by  institutions  and  restaurants.  You 
will  find  that  if  you  follow  these  suggestions  all  your  tasks  will  be  easier  and,  more  than 
probably,  your  meal  will  be  a  success. 

1.  Plan,  buy,  and  delegate  duties  well  ahead  of  entertainment  date. 

2.  Keep  number  of  committee  members  to  the  minimum  necessary  to  get  the  job 
done.     Too  many  "cooks"  can  spoil  results. 

3.  Make  careful  Preparation  and  Service  Schedules  and  be  sure  all  your  workers 
understand  them. 

4.  Be  business-like.    Plan  menu  and  calculate  food  costs  and  profits  carefully. 

5.  Select  a  menu  suitable  to  the  skills  of  your  workers  and  the  equipment  available 
to  you. 

6.  Assume  3  or  4  kitchen  workers  for  each  fifty  guests. 

7.  Assume  that  each  waitress  can  handle  8  to  10  people  for  a  sit-down  meal. 

8.  Arrange  kitchen  so  you  have  a  center  for  each  type  of  work — preparing  vegetables, 
salads,  desserts,  beverages,  etc.  Put  all  foods,  pans,  spoons,  ladles,  serving  dishes 
required  for  the  task  at  each  center. 

9.  Reduce  long  reaches  at  work  centers  wherever  possible  by  bringing  materials  and 
supplies  close  into  working  area. 

10.  Try  to  have  work  surfaces  of  convenient  heights  so  that  neither  stooping  nor 
stretching  will  be  necessary. 

11.  Try  to  have  the  best  equipment,  such  as  good  knives,  scoops,  chopping  boards, 
slicing  machines,  etc. 

12.  Make  certain  pots  and  pans  used  for  cooking  are  large  enough. 

13.  Don't  crowd  roasting  pans  or  fill  cooking  pots  over  three-fourths  full. 

14.  Keep  all  perishables  in  refrigerator  until  the  last  moment  before  serving. 

15.  Do  as  much  preparation  work  as  possible  in  advance. 

16.  If  possible,  serve  through  service  windows  or  across  a  Dutch  door  to  keep  wait- 
resses out  of  the  kitchen.  One  method  is  to  put  a  table  across  the  door  between 
the  kitchen  and  dining  room  and  have  kitchen  workers  place  food  on  it  to  be 
picked  up  by  servers. 


dioneifmoori  Salad 

Francelia  Goddaid 

A  salad  whets  the  appetite, 
It's  also  quite  nutritious. 
The  little  bride  can  manage  this 
And  thinks  it  looks  delicious. 

She  blends  the  golden  mayonnaise 
With  purple  cabbage  shredded, 
And  love  takes  up  where  skill  leaves  off 
To  please  her  newly-wedded. 


Let's  Have  Fish 


Winnified  C.  Jar  dine 
Food  Editor,  Deseiet  News  and  Telegram 


SOME  of  the  best  eating  ever 
to  be  had  is  from  fish.  De- 
licious of  flavor,  tender  of 
eating,  simple  of  cooking,  fish 
should  be  included  often  in  any 
meal  plans. 

And  not  only  is  fish  good  to  eat, 
but  it  is  nutritious  also.  Fish  is  a 
high-quality  protein,  easy  to  digest. 
And  most  fish  contains  generous 
supplies  of  vitamins  A  and  D;  all 
fish  are  an  excellent  source  of 
iodine. 

Fish  should  be  purchased  only 
from  markets  where  it  is  kept  well 
refrigerated,  even  while  on  display. 
Buy  only  the  amount  needed,  and 
buy  it  as  near  the  time  of  use  as  pos- 
sible. 

After  bringing  fresh  fish  home, 
wrap  it  in  waxed  paper,  and  store  it 
in  the  coldest  part  of  the  refrigera- 
tor until  cooking  time.  Handle 
fresh  fish  as  little  as  possible; 
handling  bruises  the  flesh. 

Store  frozen  fish  in  the  freezing 
compartment  of  the  refrigerator  un- 
til ready  to  prepare.  Thaw  frozen 
fish  before  cooking,  either  by  keep- 
ing in  the  refrigerator,  but  out  of 
the  freezer  unit  for  twenty-four 
hours,  or  by  leaving  it  at  room 
temperature  for  about  two  hours. 
Be  sure  to  cook  fish  as  soon  as  it  is 
thawed. 

If  possible,  keep  all  fish  from  di- 
rect contact  with  ice;  if  it  must  be 
placed  on  ice,  wrap  fish  carefully  in 
waterproof  paper. 

There  are  only  a  few  basic  ways 
of  cooking  fish  —  baking,  broiling, 

Page  186 


frying,  and  "boiling"  or  poaching. 
Around  these  can  be  made  many  de- 
lightful variations.  The  important 
thing  is  to  cook  fish  until  tender  and 
thoroughly  done,  yet  not  over- 
cooked. Fried  fish  should  be  crispy 
and  brown,  but  not  greasy.  Baked 
fish  should  remain  shapely. 

Extra  care  must  be  used  in  plan- 
ning menus  around  fish.  Rich 
sauces  should  be  used  with  lean  fish, 
and  acid  or  spicy  sauces  with  fat 
fish.  Mild-flavored  vegetables  should 
be  combined  with  strong-flavored 
fish,  well-flavored  vegetables  with 
mild  fish. 

Watch  textures  in  fish  meals. 
Serve  something  crusty  and 
browned,  such  as  French  fries;  and 
include  something  raw  and  crunchy, 
such  as  cabbage  slaw. 

And  remember  that  most  fish  is 
bland  in  color,  therefore  serve 
bright-colored  foods  along  with  it, 
such  as  broccoli  and  carrots. 

And  now  for  the  cooking! 

To  Bake  Whole  Fish 

Rub  fish  generously  inside  and 
out  with  salt  and  pepper.  Fill  lightly 
with  any  simple  stuffing,  sew  up 
with  string,  and  place  on  rack  in 
baking  pan.  If  desired,  lay  fish  on 
a  piece  of  cheesecloth  or  oiled  parch- 
ment paper,  so  that  it  may  be  lifted 
and  transferred  to  a  hot  platter  more 
easily  without  breaking. 

Bake  uncovered  at  45o°F.,  allow- 
ing ten  to  fifteen  minutes  per 
pound.  Baste  occasionally  with 
melted  butter  or  salad  oil.     If  de- 


LET'S  HAVE  FISH 


187 


Courtesy  American  Institute  of  Baking 

STUFFED  HALIBUT  STEAKS 


sired,  protect  the  tail  from  burning 
by  wrapping  in  waxed  paper  during 
baking  process. 

How  to  Bake  Fish  Slices 

Arrange  fish  slices  in  greased  bak- 
ing pan,  sprinkle  with  salt,  pepper, 
and  lemon  juice,  and  dot  with  but- 
ter or  margarine.  Bake  uncovered 
at  400°F.  for  20  to  30  minutes,  or 
until  tender. 

How  to  Broil  Fish 

Clean  fish  and  wipe  dry.  Broil 
small  fish  without  splitting.  Split 
medium-sized  fish  down  back  and 
remove  bones.  Cut  large  fish  into 
fillets  or  steaks. 

Brush  fish  with  melted  butter  or 
salad  oil,  sprinkle  with  salt  and  pep- 
per, then  lay  on  a  greased  broil-and- 


serve  platter,  or  on  a  greased  shallow 
broiler  pan. 

Turn  over  to  broil  and  preheat  10 
minutes.  Place  broiler  pan  2  inches 
below  source  of  heat  and  broil  fish 
until  golden  brown  and  well  done. 
Do  not  try  to  turn  fish  for  broiling 
the  second  side  —  it  is  too  easily 
broken.  If  fish  is  not  thoroughly 
cooked  by  the  time  it  is  brown, 
place  the  rack  in  a  low  position  in 
the  oven  and  finish  cooking  slowly. 

How  to  Pan-Fry  Fish 

Clean  and  wipe  dry  whole  small 
fish  or  slices  or  fillets  of  larger  ones. 
Roll  in  flour  that  has  been  seasoned 
with  salt  and  pepper;  cook  in  a 
small  amount  of  shortening  in  a 
heavy  frying  pan  until  brown  on 
both  sides,  turning  carefully  with  a 


188 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


spatula.  Fish  is  done  when  it  flakes 
from  bone  easily  when  tested  with 
a  fork. 

How  to  Oven-Fry  Fish 

Clean  pieces  of  fish  and  wipe.  Dip 
into  milk  which  has  been  salted, 
then  into  fine  dry  bread  crumbs  or 
finely  crushed  cornflakes.  Arrange 
in  well-greased  shallow  baking  pan. 
Spoon  a  little  melted  butter  or  cook- 
ing oil  over  the  pieces,  then  bake 
at  5oo°F.  for  10  to  15  minutes,  or 
until  well  browned  and  done.  Serve 
immediately. 


How  to  Poach  or  "Boil"  Fish 

Poached  fish  is  cooked  in  liquid 
that  is  definitely  below  the  boiling 
point  until  tender— about  10  min- 
utes per  pound.  The  liquid  used 
may  be  water  with  1  teaspoon  salt 
and  1  tablespoon  lemon  juice  or 
vinegar  added  for  each  quart,  or  it 
may  be  half  milk  and  half  water. 
When  the  fish  is  done,  some  of  this 
richly  flavored  broth  is  used  for  part 
or  all  of  the  liquid  in  making  egg 
sauce  or  other  sauce  to  serve  with 
the  fish. 


Baked  Creamed  Fish  Fillets 


tbsp.  flour 

salt  and  pepper 

tsp.  dry  mustard 

c.  light  cream  or  top  milk 

c.  chopped  pimiento,  if  desired 

c.  buttered  bread  crumbs 

tbsp.  minced  parsley 


Cut  fillets  in  serving  pieces.  Place  in  greased,  shallow  baking  dish;  sprinkle  with 
salt,  pepper,  paprika,  and  lemon  juice.  Make  white  sauce  of  butter,  flour,  seasoning  and 
milk;  stir  in  pimiento.  Pour  over  fillets.  Sprinkle  with  crumbs  and  parsley.  Bake  at 
35o°F.  for  35  minutes.    Makes  6  servings. 


2  pounds  fish  fillets 

2 

(cod,  sole,  halibut, 

haddock,  or  other) 

2 

%   tsp.  salt 

1 

dash  pepper 

K 

%    tsp.  paprika 

Vi 

juice  of  1  lemon 

1 

2  tbsp.  butter  or  margarine 

Crispy  Fried  Pike 


6  serving-size  pike  fillets 
sour  milk 
salt 


biscuit  mix 
2  tbsp.  butter 
2  tbsp.  shortening 


Place  pike  fillets  in  a  shallow  pan  or  dish.  Pour  enough  sour  milk  over  fillets  to 
cover.  Allow  1  tsp.  salt  for  each  pound  of  fish.  Let  stand  20  to  45  minutes.  Drain.  Dip 
each  fillet  in  dry  biscuit  mix.  Melt  butter  and  shortening  in  heavy  skillet.  Cook  fish  in 
shortening  until  well  browned  and  slightly  crisp  on  one  side,  turn,  and  repeat  on  second 
side.    Makes  6  servings. 


Broiled  Fillets  au  Gratin 


2       packages  frozen  or  3  lbs. 

fresh  brocoli 
\Vz    to  2  lbs.  thawed  quick-frozen 

or  fresh  cod  or  haddock  fillets 


2       tsp.  lemon  juice 

2       tbsp.  butter  or  margarine 

Vi   c.  milk 

Vi   lb.  processed  American  cheddar 
cheese,  grated  (2c.) 


LET'S  HAVE  FISH 


189 


Preheat  broiler  10  minutes.  Cook  broccoli  until  just  tender.  Arrange  fillets  side 
by  side  in  greased  shallow  baking  pan.  Sprinkle  with  lemon  juice  and  dot  with  butter. 
Broil  2  inches  below  heat,  without  turning,  8  to  10  minutes  or  until  easily  flaked  with 
fork  but  still  moist.  Meanwhile,  in  double  boiler,  heat  milk  with  grated  cheese  until 
smooth  sauce  is  formed.  Transfer  fish  to  i2x8-inch  baking  dish.  Arrange  broccoli  over 
fish;  pour  sauce  over  all.    Place  low  in  broiler  and  broil  until  golden.    Makes  6  servings. 

Jellied  Salmon  Loaf 


2  tbsp.  (2  packages) 

unflavored  gelatin 
Vi    c.  cold  water 
Vz    c.  boiling  water 

2   c.  cooked  or  canned  salmon 

2  tbsp.  vinegar  or  lemon  juice 

Soak  gelatin  in  cold  water.  Add  boiling  water  and  stir  until  gelatin  is  dissolved. 
Combine  with  remaining  ingredients  and  pour  into  loaf  pan  or  individual  salad  molds. 
Chill  until  firm.  Unmold  and  slice  or  serve  on  lettuce  leaves.  Serve  with  lemon 
wedges.    Makes  6  to  8  servings. 


1  c.  mayonnaise 
Vi  tsp.  salt 

lA  tsp.  pepper 

2  tbsp.  catsup 

2  hard-cooked  eggs,  chopped 

12  sliced  stuffed  olives 


Maryland  Deviled  Crab 


Vz 


tbsp.  butter 

tbsp.  flour 

c.  light  cream  or  top  milk 

beaten  egg  yolk 

c.  crab  meat 

tbsp.  Worcestershire  sauce 

tsp.  prepared  mustard 


Vz   tsp.  salt 

few  grains  pepper 
1  tsp.  finely  chopped  onion 
1  tbsp.  finely  chopped  green  pepper 
1  tsp.  lemon  juice 

!4    c.  buttered  bread  crumbs 


Melt  butter,  stir  in  flour.  Add  cream  and  cook  until  thick,  stirring  constantly.  Add 
small  amount  of  hot  liquid  to  egg  yolk,  then  stir  egg  into  remaining  hot  mixture.  Add 
crab  meat  and  seasonings.  Cook  3  minutes,  stirring  constantly.  Add  onion,  green  pep- 
per, and  lemon  juice.  Fill  greased  shells  or  ramekins  with  hot  mixture.  Top  with  but 
tered  crumbs  and  sprinkle  with  paprika.  Bake  at  400 °F.  until  crumbs  are  brown,  about 
10  minutes.    Makes  4  servings.    Double  recipe  for  baking  in  casserole. 


Stuffed  Halibut  Steaks 


2  halibut  steaks,  1-inch  thick 
2  c.  dry  bread  crumbs 

1  tsp.  salt 

2  tablespoons  onion  juice 


4    c.  melted  butter 
1   tbsp.  chopped  parsley 

1  lemon,  juice  and  grated  rind 

2  cans  vegetable  soup 


Wipe  steaks  clean.  Combine  bread  crumbs,  salt,  onion  juice,  butter,  parsley,  and 
lemon  juice  and  rind.  Spread  the  dressing  between  steaks,  then  place  stuffed  steaks  in 
a  greased  pan.  Pour  undiluted  vegetable  soup  over  steaks  and  bake  at  35o°F.  for  about 
30  minutes. 

Delicious  Tartar  Sauce 


Vi    c.  mayonnaise 
!4    tsp.  dry  mustard 

generous  sprinkle  of  garlic  and 
onion  salts 
1  tbsp.  catsup 


!4  tsp.  tabasco 

1  tsp.  vinegar 

4  or  5  minced  medium  stuffed  olives 

1  minced  gherkin 

2  tbsp.  chopped  parsley 


Combine   all   ingredients   and   serve  with   fried,   broiled,    or   baked   fish, 
enough  sauce  for  3  or  4  servings. 


Makes 


cJhe  LKugged  LKug  uiookers 


Geneve  Houlihan 


TO  the  women,  yes,  and  men,  too,  who  have  chosen  rug  hooking  as  a  hobby  or  a  vo- 
cation, the  results  are  just  the  same — a  beautiful  product  and  a  money  saver,  be- 
cause many  hours  are  needed  to  complete  a  fair-sized  rug  or  a  picture  for  the  wall. 

We  attended  our  first  class  in  hooking  rugs  over  twenty  years  ago.  This  was  during 
the  depression  days,  when  one  was  supposed  to  make  something-from-nothing  or  make-do 
with  what  you  had.  We  made  our  own  frames  from  pieces  of  scrap  lumber,  our  hooks 
were  made  from  a  nail  driven  into  a  handle,  carved  by  hand  out  of  a  block  of  wood; 
the  head  of  the  nail  was  cut  off  with  a  hacksaw  and  filed  to  make  a  hook.  The  ma- 
terial used,  preferably  wool,  was  generally  out  of  scrap  bags,  and  believe  me,  they  were 
very  lean  in  those  days.  The  rugs  were  hooked  on  burlap,  originally  a  bag  that  had 
been  carefully  washed,  starched  a  little,  and  the  design  drawn  on  with  crayola,  then 
lightly  gone  over  with  a  warm  iron  to  set  the  design.  We  cut  the  strips  of  material  by 
hand  about  one-third  of  an  inch  wide.  The  proof  of  the  sturdiness  of  these  rugs  is  the 
fact  that  many  of  them  are  still  in  use. 

As  time  went  by,  the  bad  times  turned  to  good,  but  not  for  long.  The  second 
world  war  came  along  and  wool  material  for  rug  making  was  again  hard  to  get.  We 
found  the  salvage  stores  stocked  old  wool  clothing,  but  we  did  not  purchase  wearable 
garments  to  cut  up,  unless  we  found  a  certain  number  of  moth  holes  in  them.  No 
one  ever  looked  so  gleefully  for  moth  holes,  as  the  women  did  in  those  days.  Needless 
to  say,  the  rugs  hooked  during  this  trying  time  didn't  wear  too  well. 

The  known  history  of  rug  hooking  in  Utah  goes  a  long  way  back.  Many  years  ago 
in  a  sheep-raising  community  in  Utah,  the  women  of  the  Relief  Society  were  at  a  loss 
for  carpeting  for  the  floor  in  one  of  the  Church  buildings..  They  found  a  solution. 
After  the  shearing  of  the  sheep,  there  was  always  wool  left  hanging  onto  the  bushes  and 
barb-wire  fences.  The  women  gleaned  this  wool.  It  was  in  such  small  pieces  that 
carding  was  not  practical,  so  they  left  it  as  it  was,  but  dyed  it  into  bright  colors  from 
dyes  made  from  natural  resources,  berries,  leaves,  and  brush — dyes  which  resembled 
those  the  Indians  used  for  Navajo  rugs.  They  hooked  these  small  pieces  of  wool  into 
a  beautiful  design.  This  carpeting  is  a  lasting  reminder  of  the  wonderful  spirit  of  true 
ingenuity  and  thrift. 

Rug  hooking  is  used  extensively  in  the  veterans'  hospitals  as  a  great  therapeutic 
for  the  disabled.  It  is  a  wonderful  pick-up  for  anyone.  The  short  intervals  of  spare  time 
during  a  busy  day  of  a  housekeeper,  can  be  made  pleasant  and  useful  with  a  rug  and 
material  close  by  to  hook  on,  even  though  it  be  only  for  a  few  minutes  at  a  time. 


The  modern  rug-making  workshop  of  today  consists  of  cutters  or  strippers,  which 
cut  strips  five  or  more  at  a  time  and  as  narrow  as  one-eighth  of  an  inch.  The  material 
can  be  bought  new.  In  hooking  flowers  and  other  designs,  one  needs  from  six  to  eight 
shades  of  each  color,  which  may  be  bought  or  dyed  at  home  to  give  a  spotty  effect. 

The  current  trend  is  the  reproduction  of  scenes,  such  as  Currier  and  Ive's  prints, 
hooked  into  spectacular  pictures  for  the  wall.  For  our  first  attempt  at  hooking  a  pic- 
Page  190 


THE  RUGGED  RUG  HOOKERS 


191 


ture,  we  selected  one  of  a  New  England  covered  bridge.  We  hooked  it  in  brownish-red 
shades,  with  snow-tipped  evergreens,  a  brown  horse  hitched  to  a  red  sleigh,  snow-capped 
mountain  peaks  in  the  background,  a  rustic  fence,  and  the  trees  hooked  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  the  perspective  looked  like  three  dimensions,  and  so  lifelike  that  people  seeing 
it  wanted  to  touch  it. 

Although  progress  has  found  new  methods,  and  attractive  floral  and  scenic  patterns 
on  burlap  are  readily  available,  rug  hooking  is  quite  an  art.  There  is  still  a  great 
deal  of  satisfaction  in  creating  your  own  designs,  and  digging  into  the  scrap  bag  and 
coming  up  with  a  useful  as  well  as  a  pretty  rug. 


NEW  ENGLAND  COVERED  BRIDGE 


HOOKED  RUG  MADE  BY  GENEVE  HOURIHAN 


The  rug  was  made  in  a  pattern  taken  from  a  photograph  of  a  New  England  covered 
bridge.  Wool  material  cut  in  one-eighth  inch  strips  was  used  to  make  the  rug.  It  was 
hooked  in  weather-beaten  red  and  brown  shades,  repeating  the  browns  in  the  trees  and 
fences.  The  evergreens,  of  course,  were  in  green,  snow-capped.  The  field  stone  under- 
pinnings were  toned  in  shades  of  gray.  The  picture  does  not  show  the  different  shades 
of  color  used  to  distinguish  the  mountains  from  the  sky.  The  little  houses  in  the  dis- 
tance were  made  in  bright  red,  capped  with  snow.  The  little  brook  was  done  in  gray 
and  aqua  shades.  The  sleigh  was  bright  red,  the  horse  brown,  with  a  black  harness. 
Mother  and  Father,  in  the  sleigh,  were  dressed  in  gay  colors,  and  the  robe  over  them 
was  bright  green. 


(garden    Jriccents 
Elizabeth  Williamson 

A/fOST  gardens  are  lovely  to  look  at,  borders  of  well-kept  flowers  and 
shrubs,  paths  leading  to  a  summerhouse  or  pool.  But  how  often  do 
your  friends  exclaim  as  they  are  walking  down  these  paths,  except  to  give 
the  ordinary  compliments  of  "How  lovely,  how  pretty,  so  orderly!"  These 
remarks  are  like  a  stew  without  seasoning,  good,  but  not  very  exciting. 

With  a  few  unexpected  accents  in  your  garden,  you  will  watch  your 
friends  stop  short  and  say  "What  a  delightful  surprise!  I  didn't  know  you 
had  a  flair  for  such  things." 

With  a  little  ingenuity  and  planning,  accent  spots  can  be  made,  and 
you  can  have  much  pleasure  and  satisfaction  in  designing  and  making  them. 

A  Miniature  Pool 

A  small  pool  may  be  made  from  a  big  rock  which  has  a  natural  depres- 
sion or  it  may  be  a  small,  bean-shaped  pool  made  of  cement.  The  pool 
may  be  placed  in  a  group  of  azaleas,  surrounded  by  water  plants  and  grasses, 
papyrus,  miniature  bamboo,  or  a  bit  of  ground  clover  and  mosses.  Azaleas 
are  especially  suitable  because  they  like  the  shade  and  filtered  sunlight,  and 
the  shady  places  in  your  garden  need  the  most  accents.  Otherwise,  they 
often  go  unnoticed. 

An  Unusual  Border 

In  a  shady  border,  a  patch  of  brilliant  yellow  flowers  may  be  backed 

by  gray  succulents,  dusty  millers,  Artemisias,  and  wormwood. 

Geraniums 

Three  huge  pots  of  bright  pink  geraniums  may  be  placed  at  the  corner 

of  the  garage. 

A  Bird  Bath 

Use  a  small  concrete  or  stone  bird  bath  or  statue  as  the  center  of 
interest  in  one  of  your  borders.  Put  in  a  ground  cover  of  Ajuga  or  creeping 
thyme  and  add  ferns  of  different  heights  to  build  up  to  a  grouping  of  low 
pines  or  dwarf  maples. 

Begonias 

Pale  pink  begonias  seem  to  belong  under  an  old  oak  tree.  They  give 
a  nice  accent  to  the  gray-brown  texture  of  the  tree  trunk. 

Page  192 


GARDEN  ACCENTS 


193 


Azaleas 

Azaleas  can  be  used  in  rows  of  color.  Starting  with  white,  add  rows  of 
lavender,  pale  magenta,  deep  purple,  pale  pink,  rose,  red,  flame,  and  deep 
red.  The  effect  is  dramatic  and  is  noticed  instantly,  whereas  a  mixture  of 
colors  may  do  nothing  at  all  to  our  color  perception. 


Ward  Linton 


PATIO  IN  MEXICAN  COLONIAL  STYLE 


Note  the  garden  accents  of  potted  plants  and  hanging  basket, 
matches  the  shape  of  the  patio  and  its  design  as  well. 


The  unusual  pool 


IlLultiple   uiobotes  uielp    f/lary  (Jidda   Smith 
to    1 1  Lake   (cytners  Criappy 

MARY  Hilda  Smith,  a  member  of  the  Houston  Second  Ward  Relief  Society,  in  the 
Houston  (Texas)  Stake,  uses  her  many  creative  hobbies  to, make  others  happy  and 
to  fill  her  life  with  useful  handicrafts.  She  makes  rugs  and  quilts,  bedspreads  and 
tablecloths,  afghans,  and  many  articles  of  unusual  and  exquisite  crochet  designs.  The 
hooked  rugs  at  the  left  in  the  picture  are  of  strikingly  attractive  design  and  workman- 
ship, but  they  are  unique  for  other  reasons  as  well.  Mrs.  Smith  sheared  the  sheep, 
carded  the  wool,  dyed  the  yarn,  and  then  hooked  these  beautiful  rugs. 

Many  people  who  appreciate  handicrafts  and  fine  workmanship  visit  the  Smith 
home  to  see  the  articles  which  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith  have  made  to  beautify  their 
home.  The  tabic  at  the  left  in  the  picture  was  made  by  Mr.  Smith  from  the  glass 
bowl  of  a  gasoline  pump.  He  also  made  another  table  from  a  handmade  bread  tray 
given  to  Mrs.  Smith's  mother  as  a  wedding  gift.  Mrs.  Smith  makes  many  beautiful 
articles  for  the  Relief  Society  bazaars,  and  among  other  gifts,  she  donated  an  exquisite 
Dresden-plate  quilt.  A  convert  to  the  Church,  she  is  an  outstanding  Relief  Society 
worker  and  is  loved  and  admired  by  all  who  know  her. 


Vi/here  Sweets  ^/Lre 

MaryhaJe  Woolsey 

Plant  a  row  of  clover  anywhere; 
In  blossomtime  the  golden  bees  will  find  it. 
Or  spill  some  sugar;  ants  will  soon  be  there. 
Unerring  instinct  seems  to  mastermind  it. 

Should  it  be  wrong  or  strange,  if  children  are 
As  quick  and  sure  to  reach  the  cookie  jar? 


Page  194 


There  Is  Still  Time 


Chapter  2 
Margery  S.  Stewart 


Synopsis:  Elizabeth  Anderson  is  dis- 
turbed by  a  strange  dream  in  which  she 
sees  herself  and  her  friends  walking  on 
crutches  which  crumble  away.  She  tells 
the  dream  to  Brent,  her  husband,  and 
explains  to  him  that  something  is  lacking 
in  their  family  life,  a  spiritual  oneness. 
Brent,  however,  is  so  interested  in  mak- 
ing money,  that  he  has  no  wish  to  under- 
stand Elizabeth's  plea.  Returning  from 
an  early  morning  drive  to  the  beach,  Eliza- 
beth sees  the  Los  Angeles  Temple  under 
construction,  and  the  building  seems  to 
symbolize  her  aspirations  and  her  long- 
ing for  a  more  complete  life. 

ELIZABETH  sat  down  on  the 
unfinished  temple  steps.  She 
had  children  who  received 
the  highest  grades  in  their  classes 
and  were  spiritual  illiterates.  A 
snatch  from  an  overheard  conversa- 
tion ran  through  her  mind. 

"What  are  you  supposed  to  be, 
Donna?    Daniel  in  the  lion's  den?" 

Donna  emerging  from  her  blan- 
ket, "Who  was  Daniel?  Who  was 
Daniel,  Johnny?" 

Johnny,  loftily,  "Some  guy  in  his- 
tory who  got  into  a  den  of  lions,  of 
course." 

Donna  ecstatically,  "What  hap- 
pened to  him?" 

"They  ate  him,  of  course.  What 
a  dummy!" 

"Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he 
should  go:  and  when  he  is  old,  he 
will  not  depart  from  it."  But  all 
her  friends  were  doing  such  a  won- 
derful job  with  their  youngsters  .  .  . 
such  lovely  manners,  sometimes  any- 
way, such  clean  little  bodies  .   .  . 


such  attention  to  abstract  ideas  of 
social  consciousness. 

Elizabeth  stood  up.  She  had 
picked  up  a  stone  and  she  weighed 
it  in  her  hand.  Then,  why  was  it 
that  they  were  having  such  trouble 
with  their  youngsters  when  they 
reached  their  teens?  Jean's  boy, 
Lynn,  now  .  .  .  stealing  cars  .  .  . 
when  he  had  only  to  ask  to  have  one 
of  his  own  .  .  .  thrills  they  wanted. 
Betty's  beautiful  little  daughter 
Ann  .  .  .  just  sixteen  .  .  .  and  .  .  . 
Elizabeth  shuddered.  What  could 
you  feed  a  growing  child  to  still  the 
hunger  in  his  heart,  to  put  his  feet 
in  careful  paths.  She  had  waited  all 
this  time  for  Brent. 

Brent  hadn't  liked  to  go  to  meet- 
ing. It  had  held  no  charm  for  him. 
His  quick,  seeking  mind  had  been 
always  on  a  monetary  goal  which  he 
pushed  up  from  year  to  year  as  he 
ascended  closer  to  his  heart's  desire. 
And  I,  thought  Elizabeth,  felt  in- 
adequate to  try  and  train  the  chil- 
dren, so  I  have  done  nothing  either. 

Let  me  be  honest  with  myself 
....  I  waited  because  it  didn't  mean 
enough  to  me  ....  I  didn't  know 
how  to  begin.  I  leaned  on  Brent  .  .  . 
wanted  him  to  start  me.  But  she 
knew,  suddenly,  that  the  time  was 
long  wasted  and  the  hour  bitterly 
short.  But  how  could  she  go  home 
to  four  wise  young  faces  and  say, 
"I'm  going  to  start  teaching  you 
about  God?"  How  could  she  teach, 
when  she,  herself,  was  ignorant? 

Haun's  Mill   .  .  .  Nauvoo   .   .  . 

Page  195 


196 

Carthage  .  .  .  the  names  stood  up 
tall  in  her  mind.  Elizabeth  threw 
the  stone  away  from  her  and  turned 
toward  the  car.  They  would  all 
simply  have  to  learn  together. 

'PHE  children  were  at  breakfast 
when  she  came  in.  They  sighed 
audibly  with  relief. 

"I  was  just  about  ready  to  call 
the  police.  What  an  idiotic  thing 
to  do,  go  tearing  off  when  it's  still 
dark."  Brent's  voice  was  harsh  with 
worry. 

"You  took  my  car!"  Elaine  lifted 
accusing  eyes. 

Johnny  glowered.  "You  went  on 
an  adventure  without  us." 

"You  left  me  alone!"  Donna 
wailed,  "all  ...  all  alone.  I  could 
have  been  kidnapped." 

"Such  a  tender  homecoming," 
Elizabeth  said  acidly.  The  morn- 
ing's mood  was  abruptly  shattered. 
The  usual  biting  irritation  took  pos- 
session of  her.  "Johnny!  Your 
hands!" 

Brent  tossed  a  letter  to  her. 
"Read  that  if  you  will."  He  pushed 
his  plate  away.  "What  a  day!  It's 
starting  out  like  all  the  others  .  .  . 
except  I  had  no  sleep." 

Elizabeth  picked  up  the  letter. 
She  read  it  swiftly.  It  was  from 
David,  Brent's  brother.  "Does  he 
mean  he  is  actually  telling  your 
mother  to  leave  his  house?" 

Brent  scowled.  "After  all  the 
money  I've  paid  him  to  take  care  of 
her.  Now  he's  making  money  hand 
over  fist  and  wants  me  to  take  her." 

"Brent!" 

He  slammed  down  his  napkin. 
"I'm  sorry.  I  shouldn't  have  said 
that.  You  know  yourself  our  house 
is  too  small.  We've  no  room.  Moth- 


REUEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 

er  and  I  never  did  get  on  well  to- 
gether.   David  was  always  her  pet." 

Elizabeth  folded  the  letter  over 
and  over.  "I'll  put  Johnny  down- 
stairs in  the  rumpus  room.  Elaine, 
you  and  Jennie  can  share  her  room." 

Shrieks  of  fury  rose  from  Elaine 
and  cries  of  delight  from  Jennie. 
"Ha  ...  ha,  smartie!  You're  not 
going  to  be  so  big  any  more." 

Elaine's  tears  flowed  freely.  "I'd 
rather  die  than  have  to  live  with  her 
and  her  frogs  and  worms  and  .  .  . 
and  crickets." 

Elizabeth  covered  her  ears.  "All 
right!  All  right!  I'll  move  Donna 
in  with  Jennie,  and  you  can  have 
Donna's  room." 

More  shrieks  and  moans  resound- 
ed. 

Brent  pounded  on  the  table. 
"Silence!"  He  glared  at  Elizabeth. 
"You  see  how  it  is  now  .  .  .  before 
she's  even  come.  Think  of  the  mad- 
house when  she  gets  here.  You 
know  Mother.  She's  got  to  have 
her  finger  in  every  pie  and  her  own 
say  so  about  every  situation.  We 
can't  do  it.    It's  too  much." 

Elizabeth  was  silent  until  he  was 
finished,  and  the  children  turned 
to  her  questioningly. 

"I  want  to  do  it,  Brent."  She  was 
surprised  at  the  firmness  of  her 
voice  when  inside  she  felt  so  weak. 
"I  want  to  do  something  that  is 
hard  and  right  to  do."  She  looked 
at  the  children.  "  'Honour  thy  father 
and  thy  mother.'  Those  are  more 
than  words.  They  are  meanings  on 
meanings." 

Brent  stared  at  her  open-mouthed. 
"You'll  never  make  it,"  he  said  at 
last,  but  much  of  his  force  was 
gone.  "Just  take  it  from  me,  you'll 
never  make  it." 


THERE  IS  STILL  TIME 


197 


"But  I  can  try?" 

"Sure,  you  can  try,  but  .  .  .  ." 

Elizabeth  turned  back  to  the 
children.  "We'll  all  have  to  open 
our  hearts  a  little  wider,  as  well  as 
our  house.    Are  you  willing?" 

"Why  .  .  .  yes."  Elaine  looked  a 
little  dazed. 

"Sure."    Johnny  was  eager. 

Brent  looked  at  his  watch.  "Got 
to  be  going.  What's  come  over 
you,  Eliza?" 

She  lifted  her  face  for  his  kiss. 
"I've  got  some  muscles  to  strength- 
en ..  .  moral  fibre  .  .  .  Granddad 
would  call  it." 

HpHERE  was  a  little  silence  when 
he  had  gone.  The  youngsters 
finished  their  breakfasts. 

"I  gotta  go  now,"  Johnny  said. 
"Promised  Nick  I'd  meet  him  at 
the  playground."  He  squirmed  out 
of  his  chair. 

"Wait."  Elizabeth  wet  her  lips. 
"Sit  down  a  minute,  Johnny.  Don't 
go,  the  rest  of  you." 

"Aw,  gosh!"  Johnny  slid  back 
into  his  place. 

Elizabeth  lifted  her  eyes  to  them. 
Her  voice  was  low  and  gentle, 
"What  do  you  know  about  God?" 
she  asked. 

The  children  were  embarrassed 
and  silent. 

She  turned  to  Elaine  appealingly. 
"You  should  know  something  .  .  . 
you  went  to  Sunday  School." 

"When  I  was  six,"  Elaine  said 
scornfully.  "Should  I  remember 
from  when  I  was  six?" 

"He  lives  in  the  sky  ..."  Donna 
ventured.  "Marion  told  me  that  he 
does." 

"They  had  a  real  good  play  about 
him  once  on  TV.    It  was  at  Easter 


time."  Johnny  twisted  about  in  his 
chair.  "Remember?  I  asked  you 
about  him  then  .  .  .  only  you  were 
too  busy." 

"I'm  sorry,"  Elizabeth  said.  "1 
was  wrong.  I  want  to  teach  you 
about  him  now.  I  thought  we'd 
start  with  his  Son.  I'll  tell  you 
about  his  birth  .  .  .  and  .  .  .  and 
we'll  go  on  from  there." 

"Aw,  I  heard  it  a'ready  ...  at 
Christmas  at  school,"  said  Jennie. 
"I'm  going  to  get  my  guns." 

Elizabeth  said  very  clearly.  "You 
will  remain  in  your  place  until  I 
have  finished  speaking  .  .  .  and  .  .  . 
we've  said  our  prayers." 

"Prayers!"  They  stole  glances  at 
one  another. 

"Prayers,"  said  Elizabeth  firmly. 
"But  now  I'll  start  with  the  story." 

She  told  it  quietly,  trying  to  re- 
member every  part  of  it,  the  man- 
ger, the  star,  the  shepherds  .  .  . 
Mary  .  .  .  "About  Elaine's  age  she 
was,  set  apart,  gentle,  gentle  as  a 
dove  and  radiant  .  .  .  carrying  under 
her  heart  the  promise  of  all  the 
generations  that  had  been  and  all 
that  were  yet  to  come." 

They  listened  raptly,  the  room 
was  very  still. 

"...  and  Joseph  was  warned  in 
a  dream  and  fled  away  into  Egypt 
with  the  little,  new  baby  and  Mary, 
his  mother,  and  the  cruel  king  did 
not  find  him,  however  thirstily  he 
hunted." 

They  were  all  silent  when  she 
finished,  the  deep  hush  still  on 
them.  Elizabeth  slipped  to  her 
knees  and  after  an  awkward  moment 
the  children  followed  her.  Her 
prayer  was  short  and  stumbling. 
Then  she  rose  and  began  to  gather 
up  the  dishes.     The  children  stole 


198 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


away.  Donna  came  to  kiss  her  and 
Elaine  hesitated  beside  her. 

"Are  you  going  to  do  this  every 
day?" 

"Yes,"  said  Elizabeth  strongly, 
but  her  knees  trembled. 

"I  just  wondered.  I  think  it's 
awfully  good  for  Donna  and  Jennie 
and  Johnnie." 

"Do  you  really?  You'll  help  me, 
then?" 

Elaine  gave  one  of  her  brief,  daz- 
zling smiles.  "I  certainly  will. 
Goodbye  now,  I've  got  a  date  to 
play  tennis  with  Bill." 

"Bill  Barker?"  Elizabeth  could 
not  keep  the  concern  out  of  her 
voice. 

Defiance  flared  up  in  Elaine's 
lovely  dark  eyes.  "So?  What's 
wrong  with  Bill  Barker?" 

"Darling  .  .  .  I've  heard  things." 

"All  right.  You've  heard  things. 
Point  me  out  a  perfect  boy  around 
here.  You  know  them  all.  A  per- 
son has  to  have  somebody." 

"You'll  be  home  around  twelve?" 

Elaine  flounced  away.  "Yes,  I'll 
be  here.  Honestly,  the  way  people 
around  here  keep  tabs  on  a  person." 

Matilda  waddled  in.  "Here,  I'll 
clear  up  the  table,  Miss  Anderson." 

"No,  I'll  finish.  I  wanted  you  to 
work  on  the  upstairs." 

"You  want  I  should  change  the 
rooms  around?" 

Elizabeth  threw  up  her  hands  in 
defeat.  "I  guess  there  isn't  much 
around  here  you  don't  know  about, 
Matilda." 

"I  can  get  my  Jim  to  carry  the 
beds  around." 

"An  excellent  idea." 

Matilda  hesitated.    "Is  she  peace- 
ful like?    Your  mother-in-law?" 
Elizabeth  sorted  the  silver.     She 


chuckled.  "Grandma  Anderson 
weighs  just  one  hundred  pounds  .  .  . 
all  of  it  energy.  She  likes  to  work, 
and  she  likes  to  talk  .  .  .  and  she 
rather  likes  taking  charge  of  things." 

Matilda  smoothed  her  apron. 
"Not  of  my  kitchen  she  don't."  She 
scowled.  "I  been  in  homes  where 
they  is  too  many  bosses." 

"We  love  you,"  said  Elizabeth, 
her  heart  sinking  as  the  picture  of 
a  long  line  of  replacements  flashed 
before  her  mind,  "but  you're  free 
as  air,  you  know  that." 

"I  know  that,"  maintained  Ma- 
tilda stoutly,  "I  just  want  to  make 
sure  that  you  knows  that." 

TT  was  on  a  September  morning 

that  Grandma  Anderson  moved 
in.  She  came  by  plane,  courtesy  of 
David,  wearing  an  orchid,  gift  of 
her  daughter,  Alice,  and  began  talk- 
ing from  the  top  step  of  the  stairs 
they  moved  against  the  plane. 

".  .  .  Upon  my  soul  and  body,  I 
never  was  so  scared!  They  shouldn't 
let  these  things  off  the  ground 

Elizabeth  could  only  catch  phras- 
es as  she  moved  down  the  stairs,  a 
tiny  little  woman  with  short  curly 
white  hair  under  a  black  sailor.  She 
tried  to  hold  on  to  her  purse  and 
gather  all  four  grandchildren  in  her 
arms  at  once.  Her  glasses  tipped 
askew,  her  hat  rocked  back,  and 
her  purse  opened  and  spilled  its 
contents. 

"Mother!  For  pity's  sakes!" 
Brent  got  down  on  hands  and  knees 
to  retrieve  pennies  and  nickels  and 
mints  and  pencils. 

"Oh,  Brent,  that  was  clumsy  of 
me  ....  Well,  as  I  was  saying  .  .  . 
Brent,  you're  too  thin  .  .  .  much  too 
thin " 


THERE  IS  STILL  TIME 


199 


She  turned  this  way  and  that, 
peering  up  into  their  faces,  her 
words  tumbling  over  each  other.  "I 
hear  you  have  a  cook  now,  Eliza- 
beth. Fancy  that!  The  talk  of 
Beaver.  Johnny  looks  peaked,  too." 
She  took  her  grandson's  face  in  her 
hands,  looked  accusingly  from  him 
to  Elizabeth.  "It's  just  a  good 
thing  that  I  came,  that's  all  I  have 
to  say."  She  seized  upon  Elaine. 
"Prettiest  thing  I  ever  saw  ...  all 
Anderson  .  .  .  every  bit  of  her." 

Brent  protested,  laughing.  "She's 
the  spit  and  image  of  Elizabeth  at 
her  age,  and  you  know  it." 

Elizabeth  met  Brent's  meaningful 
glance  calmly.  She  would  not  be 
ruffled  by  Grandma  Anderson.  Per- 
haps, she  thought,  she  believes  I'm 
her  enemy.  Perhaps  she's  been  con- 
juring pictures  up  in  her  mind  all 
the  way  down  here  of  cruel  things 
I'll  do  to  her.  How  do  I  know 
what  goes  on  in  the  mind  of  a  little 
old  lady,  who's  been  pushed  out  of 
one  son's  house? 

Brent  took  his  mother  firmly  by 
the  arm,  led  her  to  the  car.  "We're 
having  a  dinner  tonight,  Mother,  a 
lot  of  people  whose  friendship  I 
really  need.    Watch  it,  will  you?" 

"A  big  dinner!"  Grandma  And- 
erson was  instantly  atwitter.  "Well, 
you  know  how  I  love  company! 
Maybe  I  could  bake  up  a  pie  or 
two  .  .  .  nothing  like  homemade 
apple  pie,  I  always  say." 

Brent  opened  his  mouth,  his  face 
darkening,  but  Elizabeth  rushed  in- 
to the  tiny  pause.  "What  a  wonder- 
ful idea,  but  I  was  saving  you  to 
help  me  with  the  flowers.  No  one 
has  a  touch  quite  like  yours." 

For  an  instant  Grandma  Ander- 
son  faltered,  pleased  and  flushed. 


"Well,  I  declare,  I'm  glad  to  hear 
someone  admit  it.  Honestly,  the 
way  people  poke  flowers  into  vases 
chills  my  blood  ...  I  declare  it 
chills  my  blood." 

"Chills  my  blood,"  Johnny  re- 
peated under  his  breath.  Elizabeth 
saw  his  face  grow  bright  with  inter- 
est. He  moved  closer  to  walk  be- 
side his  grandmother.  His  admira- 
tion was  shared  with  equal  fervor  by 
Jennie.  Donna  had  been  captured 
from  the  start.  "I  get  to  sit  by 
Grandma  all  the  way  home." 

They  drove  up  to  drop  Brent  off 
at  his  office.  "Goodbye,  Mother." 
He  kissed  her,  turned  a  worried 
frown  to  Elizabeth.  "Remember 
the  Ames'  are  coming  tonight.  You 
know  his  nod  means  I'll  get  that 
tract  of  homes  to  build." 

Elizabeth  tried  to  reassure  him 
with  a  smile,  unable  to  interrupt 
the  steady  flow  from  the  back  seat. 

".  ...  So  I  told  your  father,  he 
was  ten  at  the  time,  that  if  he  ate 
the  green  apples  he  would  get  sick 
and  get  a  whipping  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  and  he  did.  Your  fa- 
ther was  one  wild  little  Indian  .  .  . 
and  his  report  cards!"  She  lifted 
her  eyes  heavenward. 

Johnny  lifted  startled  eyes  to  his 
father's  face.  "Gee  whiz!  You 
mean  Dad  was  just  like  me!" 

Brent  frowned.  "Now  remem- 
ber, Mother,  I  don't  want  any  part 
of  my  history  related  to  the  guests 
tonight.  Give  someone  else  a 
chance  to  talk." 

Grandma  Anderson  settled  her 
hat  more  firmly  on  her  head.  "Land 
sakes  alive,  Son!  If  people  want  to 
talk  they  got  to  fight  for  the  privi- 
lege same  as  I  do." 

(To  be  continued) 


From  The  Field 


Margaret  C.  Pickerings  General  Secretary-Treasurer 

All  material  submitted  for  publication  in  this  department  should  be  sent  through 
stake  and  mission  Relief  Society  presidents.  See  regulations  governing  the  submittal 
of  material  for  "Notes  From  the  Field"  in  the  Magazine  for  April  1950,  page  278,  and 
the  Handbook  of  Instructions,  page  123. 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  ACTIVITIES 


Photograph  submitted  by  Lovell  W.  Smith 


CENTRAL  ATLANTIC  STATES  MISSION,  WEST  NORTH  CAROLINA 
DISTRICT  BAZAAR,  November  19,   1955 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Jean  P.  Hyder,  President,  Royal  Pines  Branch; 
Mamie  Crisson,  President,  Marion  Branch;  Kathleen  White,  President,  Gastonia  Branch; 
Grace  Bradley,  President,  Cherokee  Branch;  Helen  Dibbens,  First  Counselor,  West 
North  Carolina  District;  Myrtle  Dixon,  President,  West  North  Carolina  District;  Irene 
Dixon,  Secretary-Treasurer,  West  North  Carolina  District;  Ruth  Wilson,  President, 
Statesville  Branch;  Mary  Snead;  Sister  Thompson,  Cherokee  Branch. 

Sister  Myrtle  Dixon  reports:  "This  was  the  first  activity  for  the  district  as  a 
whole.  Each  Relief  Society  in  the  district  had  its  own  display  booth  and  displayed 
many  lovely  articles.  Especially  outstanding  was  the  display  of  our  good  Lamanite  sis- 
ters from  Cherokee,  who  were  organized  about  a  year  ago.  Sister  Helen  Dibbens,  the 
district  work  meeting  supervisor,  was  in  charge  of  the  bazaar.  The  Relief  Society  district 
presidency  served  approximately  one  hundred  twenty-five  people  to  a  turkey  dinner." 

Lovell  W.  Smith  is  president  of  the  Central  Atlantic  States  Mission  Relief  Society. 

Page  200 


NOTES  FROM  THE  FIELD 


201 


Photograph  submitted  by  June   Baggett 

REDONDO  STAKE  (CALIFORNIA)  RELIEF  SOCIETY  OFFICERS  READY  TO 
BOARD  THE  TRAIN  FOR  RELIEF  SOCIETY  GENERAL  CONFERENCE 

September  27,  1955 

Left  to  right:  Kathryn  Squire,  Education  Counselor;  Nanna  Ord,  Magazine  repre- 
sentative; Elna  Bybee,  chorister;  June  Baggett,  President;  Martha  Green,  Work  Director 
Counselor;  Lenna  Cowdell,  Secretary;  Ada  Nelson,  work  meeting  leader;  Norma  Greene, 
literature  class  leader. 

Sister  Baggett  reports:  "The  theology  class  leader,  Florence  Ferguson  and  the 
social  science  leader  did  not  go  with  this  group,  but  did  attend  conference.  Zenneth 
Johnson,  organist,  was  unable  to  go  because  of  illness.  We  had  eleven  enrolled  and  ten 
attended  the  conference." 


.:■  '  •  ■  ...  ■:-.....'.' 


Photograph  submitted  by  Eleanor  T.  Nielsen 

BEN  LOMOND  STAKE  (UTAH)  SINGING  MOTHERS  PRESENT  MUSIC  AT 
STAKE  QUARTERLY  CONFERENCE,  IN  THE  NEW  TABERNACLE 

November  1955 

The  chorister,  Marion  Hadley,  stands  sixteenth  from  the  left  in  the  front  row 
(wearing  dark  dress);  Lettice  Rich,  the  organist,  stands  third  from  the  right  in  the 
front  row. 

The  following  wards  are  represented  in  this  chorus:  Ogden  Twenty-ninth, 
Fortieth,  and  Forty-eighth;  North  Ogden  First  and  Second  Wards;  and  the  Pleasant 
View  Ward. 

Eleanor  T,  Nielsen,  President,  Ben  Lomond  Stake  Relief  Society,  comments:  "This 
photo  was  taken  in  the  new  tabernacle,  and  we  feel  it  an  honor  to  have  been  asked  to 
sing  in  such  a  wonderful  edifice." 


202 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


Photograph  submitted  by  Elaine  B.  Curtis 

COTTONWOOD  STAKE    (UTAH),  HOLLADAY  SECOND  WARD  RELIEF 
SOCIETY  PRESENTS  QUILT  TO  BISHOP 

Left  to  right:  Flora  J.  Gibbs,  Work  Director  Counselor;  Emma  Jean  J.  Duke,  Presi- 
dent; Bishop  George  Richard  Hill;  Maxine  L.  Cook,  quilting  chairman;  Peart  S.  Ash- 
ton,  Employment  Placement  Counselor;  LaPreal  R.  Martindale,  Secretary-Treasurer. 

This  lovely  quilt,  with  more  than  six  hundred  names  embroidered  in  its  pattern, 
was  presented  to  Bishop  Richard  Hill  and  his  wife  Melba  P.  Hill,  at  the  climax  of  a 
successful  bazaar. 

Elaine  B.  Curtis  is  president  of  Cottonwood  Stake  Relief  Society. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Rhoda  Thorpe 

HYRUM  STAKE  (UTAH),  MILLVILLE  WARD  VISITING  TEACHERS  WHO 
HAVE  ACHIEVED  A  ONE-HUNDRED  PER  CENT  RECORD  FOR  TWO  YEARS 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Ramona  Jessop  returned  missionary;  Delilah  Lar- 
son; Etta  Jenson;  Hidvie  Anderson;  Marion  Jessop;  Katie  Pehrson;  Donna  Scott;  Leah 
Humphreys. 

Second  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Leone  Garr;  Aloma  Hammond;  Loretta  Ander- 
son; Hannah  Iverson;  Martha  Hale;  Mary  Nielson;  Viola  Hill;  Thelma  Jessop;  Helen 
Monson. 


NOTES  FROM  THE  FIELD 


203 


Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  May  Jessop;  Jenny  Hovey;  Alta  Jessop;  Verla 
Olson;  Elva  Vogel;  Dorella  Bott;  Florence  Olson;  Norma  Monson;  Connie  Knowles; 
Jane  Jessop;  May  Pehrson;  Nona  Shaffer. 

Rhoda  Thorpe  is  president  of  Hyrum  Stake  Relief  Society. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Leona  P.  Boyce 

NORTH  TOOELE  STAKE   (UTAH)   SINGING  MOTHERS  PRESENT  MUSIC 
FOR   STAKE   QUARTERLY  CONFERENCE,   November   1955 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Evelyn  Teetsell,  chorister;  Mable  Bryan,  organist; 
Ruth  Bird,  First  Counselor;  Leona  Boyce,  President,  North  Tooele  Stake  Relief  Society; 
Maud  Groscost,  Second  Counselor;  Delpha  Hall,  Secretary. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Marteal  W.  Hendricks 

WEST  CENTRAL  STATES  MISSION,  CASPER  FIRST  AND  SECOND 

BRANCHES  SINGING  MOTHERS  PRESENT  MUSIC  FOR  WYOMING 

DISTRICT  CONFERENCE,  December  11,  1955 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Catherine  Hein;  Rhea  White;  Loretta  Durbin; 
Beth  Davis,  District  Relief  Society  President;  Marteal  H.  Hendricks,  President,  West 
Central  States  Mission  Relief  Society;  Helen  Madson,  chorister;  Hazel  Loomis,  ac- 
companist. 

Second  row,  left  to  right:  June  Stanley;  Mary  Dalton;  Dona  Marie  Lallatin;  Yvonne 
Morgan;  Lois  Lowham;  Sophronia  Bertignole;  Velma  Birch;  Evelyn  Mangus;  Jean 
Piorot. 


204 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MARCH  1956 


Third  row,  left  to  right:  Doris  Williams;  Lucille  Egley;  Gloria  Meyers;  Verda  Lari- 
more;  Bernice  Hunter;  Beth  Burnett;  Leola  McClellan;  Geneva  Drollinger;  Sue  Jergen. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Florence  C.  Christiansen 

BLACKFOOT  STAKE   (IDAHO),  BLACKFOOT  FIRST  WARD  VISITING 

TEACHERS  WHO  HAVE  ACHIEVED  A  ONE-HUNDRED  PER  CENT 

RECORD  FOR  FIVE  YEARS  AND  FIVE  MONTHS 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Lottie  Tanner,  Counselor;  Mattie  Miles,  President; 
Lena  Brown,  Counselor;  Verda  Stoddart,  Secretary. 

Florence  C.  Christiansen  is  president  of  Blackfoot  Stake  Relief  Society. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Opal  W.  Broadbent 

LYMAN  STAKE  (WYOMING)   SINGING  MOTHERS  PRESENT  MUSIC  FOR 
STAKE  QUARTERLY  CONFERENCE,  October   30,    1955 


Nancy  Stevens,  chorister,  stands  at  the  left  on  the  first  row;  Ida  Taylor,  organist, 
stands  at  the  right  on  the  first  row. 


NOTES  FROM  THE  FIELD 


205 


Pnotograph  submitted  by  Emily  S.   Romish 

WEST  POCATELLO  STAKE  (IDAHO),  TWENTIETH  WARD  OFFICERS  AND 
TEACHERS  CONDUCT  FOOD  AND  RUMMAGE  SALES 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Deaun  Weed,  Secretary;  Elva  Jenks,  Education 
Counselor;  Ruth  Hinckley,  President;  Alice  Olsen,  Work  Director  Counselor;  LaVon 
Bower,  work  meeting  leader. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Ruth  Thacker,  visiting  teacher  message  leader; 
Grace  Lewis,  Magazine  representative;  Barbara  Hendrickson,  literature  class  leader;  Julia 
Robbins,  social  science  class  leader;  Levon  Dalton,  theology  class  leader;  Marie  McCul- 
lock,  chorister;  Rosalie  Talbot,  organist. 

This  ward  organization  reports  a  most  successful  activity  program:  "The  new 
Twentieth  Ward  Relief  Society  began  functioning  in  January  1954,  with  fifty-four 
members  on  the  initial  roll.  Now,  at  the  beginning  of  1956,  there  are  seventy  mem- 
bers enrolled.  The  highest  attendance  at  one  time  was  fifty-four  women  and  forty-two 
children.  We  employ  a  baby  sitter  regularly.  The  organization  has  forty  visiting 
teachers  who  have  maintained  one-hundred  per  cent  records  for  several  months.  Also, 
the  Singing  Mothers,  a  group  of  sixteen,  have  performed  beautifully. 

"Our  activities  have  been  numerous  and  joyous,  to  name  some:  several  cooked 
food  sales  and  rummage  sales  have  been  sufficiently  successful  to  finance  us  through 
each  year  ....  Through  the  year  each  woman  in  our  ward  received  a  card  on  her  birth- 
day. Our  welfare  dinners,  storehouse  assignments,  quilts,  and  other  activities  have  added 
to  our  experiences.  At  present  our  ward  meets  in  a  building  a  mile  and  a  half  from  our 
homes,  so  our  transportation  problem  has  hindered  our  attendance.  Our  ward  families 
are  young  couples  with  small  children,  so  our  efforts  in  this  work  have  seemed  great 
accomplishments  and  choice  experiences  that  have  united  us  in  a  true  sisterhood." 

Emily  S.  Romish  is  president  of  West  Pocatello  Stake  Relief  Society. 


Comfort 

Ida  Isaacson 

The  corner  that  you  choose  to  weep  in 

Seems  solitary,  bare; 

But  you  are  not  alone,  my  dear, 

For  God  is  near,  and  understands  despair. 


Easter 

Three  Part 
Choruses 

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Women's 

Voices 


Calvary— Rodney    22 

Christ,  the  Lord,  Is  Ris'n 

Today — Erb    16 

God  So  Loved  the  World— Stainer  .12 

Hosanna— Granier    20 

Hosanna!  Blessed  Is  He— Marryott  .18 

Hymn   For  Easter— Templeton    20 

Legende— Tschaikowsky   20 

Message  of  the  Bells— Pohlmann..   .20 

Our  Christ  Has  Risen— Connor  25 

The  Palms— Faure  22 

Unfold,  Ye  Portals— Gounod  14 


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(bunvoaaet 

Jennie  E.  Graham 

\  T  Grandfather's  death  we  left  the 
■**  farm  in  the  Wasatch  Valley  and 
moved  to  Provo,  Utah,  in  a  very  dignified 
part  of  the  city.  But  Grandmother,  bless 
her  heart,  put  on  her  sunbonnet  and  went 
calling  on  the  doctor's  wife  and  the 
lawyer's  wife.  She  was  so  quaint  and 
sweet  and  soon  had  the  neighborhood 
friendly.  They  watched  for  her  sunbon- 
net as  she  hung  out  her  clothes  on  a  Mon- 
day morning,  and,  if  they  did  not  see  it, 
they  would  call  to  see  if  she  were  ill. 

When  she  was  asked  to  go  Relief  So- 
ciety teaching  and  walk  long  blocks,  as  we 
did  not  own  a  car,  and  she  was  in  her 
late  sixties,  I  thought  it  rather  difficult  for 
her.  But  when  Grandmother  was  ill  and 
could  not  go  teaching  each  month,  young 
married  men  would  come  to  the  door  and 
ask  how  she  was.  They  came  early  in 
the  morning  so  they  could  take  the  word 
back  to  their  wives  before  they  left  for 
work.  They  said  they  had  missed  her, 
and  she  had  made  a  place  in  their  hearts 
with  her  smile  and  had  helped  them  so 
much  rearing  their  little  families.  (Grand- 
mother had  had  sixteen  babies  of  her  own 
and  had  found  room  to  take  me,  a  wee 
granddaughter,  into  her  home  and  heart 
at  the  death  of  my  mother.)  The  men 
said  they  always  made  it  a  point  to  be 
home  when  she  would  be  coming.  Then 
I  knew  how  wise  the  officers  had  been  in 
choosing  her  for  a  Relief  Society  visiting 
teacher. 

How  well  I  remember  how  worried  she 
was  on  her  return  from  one  of  her  visit- 
ing teacher  trips.  One  sister  who  lived 
across  the  street  from  the  chapel  felt  she 
could  not  attend  the  Relief  Society  meet- 
ing as  she  washed  on  Mondays  and  ironed 
on  Tuesdays,  and  it  would  upset  her 
household  too  much. 

Grandmother  felt  the  sister  should  go, 
as  the  lessons  were  on  child  care  and,  as 
a  young  mother,  she  could  make  the  very 
best  use  of  the  material.    So,  after  Grand- 


Page  206 


PUT  ON  YOUR  GAY  SUNBONNET 


207 


mother  had  thought  and  worried  about  it 
for  a  few  days,  she  solved  the  problem  by 
sending  me  to  watch  the  children  and  do 
the  ironing  while  the  mother  attended 
Relief  Society  meeting. 

One  spring  when  school  was  out  after 
I  had  been  teaching  in  Southern  Utah, 
one  of  the  other  teachers  said  she  must 
be  all  packed  and  ready  to  go  home  as 
soon  as  her  mother  came  for  her,  as  they 
had  to  be  back  in  Provo  for  a  very  special 
meeting. 

As  the  family  arrived,  we  teachers  all 
pitched  in  to  help  load  the  car  and  get 
them  off,  and  as  we  worked  we  visited. 
The  mother  said  it  was  a  Relief  Society 
meeting  which  was  to  be  held  that  night 
in  the  Fourth  Ward  of  Provo,  and  she 
was  to  be  put  in  as  Relief  Society  presi- 
dent. But  there  was  only  one  thing  she 
wished,  and  that  was  that  the  dear  sister 
who  had  helped  her  to  attend  Relief  So- 
ciety could  be  there,  so  she  could  thank 
her  for  the  joy  and  happiness  that  she  had 
found  while  working  in  the  society.  She 
went  on  to  tell  us  that  the  sister  had  even 
sent  someone  to  tend  the  children  and  do 
her  ironing  so  she  could  go  to  her  first 
meeting,  as  she  thought  she  could  not  up- 
set her  family,  as  she  washed  on  Mondays, 
and  ironed  on  Tuesdays.  Then  she  added, 
"And  I  am  so  ashamed  now  when  I  think 
of  it,  for  I  only  lived  across  the  street 
from  the  chapel." 

When  she  said  her  visiting  teacher's 
name  was  Sister  Lindsay,  I  told  her  she 
was  speaking  of  my  Grandmother,  Sarah 
A.  Lindsay,  and  that  I  was  the  grand- 
daughter she  had  sent  to  do  the  ironing 
and  watch  the  children  on  that  first  day. 

We  had  a  good  cry,  and  she  said,  "Oh, 
if  she  could  only  be  here  tonight  to  see 
me  made  president  of  the  Fourth  Ward 
Relief  Society,  and  I  could  thank  her  for 
this  wonderful  blessing  that  has  come  into 
my  life,  this  happiness  that  is  mine  be- 
cause one  dear  sister  was  willing  to  take 
her  visiting  teacher  calling  to  heart  and  do 
such  a  good  job." 

Oh,  how  we  have  missed  that  gingham 
sunbonnet  through  the  years.  Many  of  her 
neighbors  have  asked  for  the  pattern  of 
her  sunbonnet. 


There  has  never  been  a  more  faithful 
member  of  royalty  wearing  a  golden  crown 
who  has  done  more  sincere  work  for  her 
"King"  than  this  daughter  of  Zion  who 
wore  with  such  a  sweet  smile  a  gingham 
sunbonnet. 


uietum 

Christie  Lund  Coles 

I  sought  the  place  again, 
Where  my  youth  ran, 
But  the  road  so  spacious  then 
Was  but  a  rod's  span; 

The  steeple  and  the  old, 
Time-rusted  bell, 
Were  little  like  the  tall 
Memory  I  knew  well; 

The  fingered  apple  tree 
Beside  whose  root 
My  lips  once  tasted  sweet 
Bore  meager  fruit; 

And  yet,  the  poplared  street 
By  which  I  came 
Was  silver  in  the  sun,  and 
Caught  my  breath  the  same. 


uielptng  uiands 

Delia  Adams  Leitner 

The  little  hands  so  helpless 

That  clasp  your  own  today; 

The  little  feet  uncertain 

That  trust  your  leading  way — 

You  feel  in  their  dependence 

Responsibility 
To  guide  them  and  protect  them 

Till  they  are  strong  and  free. 

The  years  are  swift  in  passing — 
Like  reels  of  film  they  go; 

Time  comes  when  aging  footsteps 
Are  tottering  and  slow; 

It  may  be  in  that  distance 

When  your  own  strength  shall  fail 
These  hands  will  keep  you  steady 

Along  life's  sunset  trail. 


I 


cJhe  aTome  on  the  uitil 

Alyce  O.  Nelson 

heard  today  that  the  house  on  the  hill  is  being  torn  down  and  carried  away.     Just  as 
fast  as  I  could,  I  walked  to  the  place  that  was  my  home. 


The  path  to  the  house  was  overgrown  with  weeds;  the  grass  was  trying  hard  to 
cover  the  spots  that  were  dry;  and  yet,  around  the  edges,  the  daffodils  were  poking  their 
golden  heads  through,  as  they  had  always  done  this  time  of  the  year. 

I  looked  to  find  a  certain  tree,  but  there  was  only  a  stump.  Where  were  the 
limbs  and  branches,  especially  the  one  that  had  grown  just  for  the  purpose  of  holding 
a  swing?  I  visualized  the  rope,  with  knot  tied  tightly,  that  held  us  when  we  went  high 
into  the  air. 

I  tried  to  find  the  pansy  bed  and  the  sweet-smelling  violets.  They  used  to  be  by 
the  lilac  bush — but  that  was  withered  and  dry.  I  walked  to  the  side  door,  just  to  see 
if  on  the  porch  there  might  be  a  tricycle,  bicycle,  or  a  little  red  wagon  with  a  reading 
on  the  side,  "Big  Ben."  In  such  a  wagon  we  used  to  scoot  down  the  hill,  but  it 
was  not  there. 

Through  the  glass  in  the  window,  I  saw  my  mother  setting  the  table.  She  was 
humming  a  tune.  It  would  not  be  long  now  until  Father  would  be  home  from  his 
work.  I  remember  his  face  always  wore  a  smile  and  he  had  a  pat  on  the  shoulder  for 
me  and  my  brother  —  a  kiss  for  my  mother  and  sister  Sue. 

The  old-fashioned  parlor  looked  the  same,  and  there  was  the  fireplace;  the  embers 
from  the  coals  beckoned  me  to  come  and  sit,  as  we  used  to  do  in  the  days  of  long  ago. 
So  many  things,  I  imagined,  were  just  the  same — the  horsehair  sofa,  with  a  chair  on 
each  side,  the  platform  rocker  where  Mother  rocked  us  and  sang  sweet  lullabies. 

In  the  center  of  the  room  there  was  a  marble-topped  table,  an  album  with  pictures 
of  relatives,  and  an  old-fashioned  hanging  lamp  that  was  the  pride  of  us  all,  which  shed 
such  a  mellow  light  when  it  was  pulled  down  low.  I  could  see  the  walls  lined  with 
enlarged  pictures,  the  faces  sober,  never  a  smile;  Grandfather  so  stern,  Grandmother 
so  frail  and  small. 

Just  then  there  was  a  bang  and  a  loud  noise.  The  wreckers  shouted,  "Out  of  the 
way!"  But  I  had  to  hurry  upstairs  to  see  the  bedrooms. 

The  largest  room  belonged  to  Father  and  Mother;  the  little  room  to  the  right 
was  mine;  across  the  hall  my  brother  slept.  That  room  was  a  joy  to  me  as  I  used  to 
sneak  in  to  see  the  maps  which  hung  on  the  wall.  The  books  on  the  table  and  the 
round  ball  of  the  earth  were  all  mysteries  to  me. 

The  prettiest  room  was  my  sister's;  white  Swiss  curtains  that  blew  so  far  with  each 
gentle  breeze  that  came  when  the  windows  were  lifted  high.  Everything  was  dainty. 
I  could  see  my  sister  sitting  there  at  the  dresser  brushing  her  shining  yellow  hair. 

As  I  stood  wondering,  a  workman  shouted  for  me  to  get  out  of  the  way,  to  leave 
before  the  roof  fell  in. 

I  had  to  hurry  down  the  stairs,  out  the  front  door.  They  could  tear  the  house 
down,  carry  it  all  away,  but  they  could  not  take  all  these  memories  from  me — for  this 
dear  old  house  and  the  place  where  it  stood  will  always  be  "Home,  Sweet  Home"  to  me. 

Page  208 


THE  WORLD'S  FINEST 
PIANOS 

Mason  &  Hamlin 

The  Stradivari  of  Pianos 


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Finest  Toned  Spinet  Piano  Built 

Cable  -  Nelson 

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Pioneer  Piano  People 
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It's  awaiting 
You  .  .  . 

1  Ho  there  is  still  a  tremendous  amount 
of  outstanding  instruction  and  use  await- 
ing you  in  this  and  other  copies  of  the 
Relief  Society  Magazine.  Your  editions 
may  be  handsomely  bound  at  the  West's 
finest  bindery  and  printing  plant  for  $2.50 
cloth  bound  and  $3.50  leather  bound  per 
volume  plus  postage  for  mail  orders.  All 
mail  orders  must  be  paid  in  advance. 
Follow  these  postage  rates  if  you  send 
your  order  by   mail: 

Distance  from 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah  Rate 

Up  to  150  miles  35 

150  to    300  miles 39 

300  to     600  miles  45 

600  to  1000  miles  54 

1000  to  1400  miles  64 

1400  to  1800  miles  76 

Over  1800  miles  87 

Leave  them  at  our  conveniently  locat- 
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Deseret  News  Press 

Phone  EMpire  4-2581    rfH) 

31  Richards  St.       Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah  ■■  ^^J 


HAWAII 

Sail  from  Los  Angeles 
Via  the  Lurline  April  9,  1956 

EUROPE 

Another  famous  Festival  Tour 

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via  the  Empress  of  Canada. 

For  Complete  Details 
Write  or  Phone: 

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Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 


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Home  Memories 

of  President  David  0.  McKay 

Compiled  by  Llewellyn  R.  McKay 

This  wonderful  new  book  abounds  in  unusual  hap- 
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VOL  43  NO.  4 


<• 


THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 

Monthly  Publication   of  the  Relief    Society   of   The   Church   of   Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day    Saints 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  GENERAL  BOARD 
Belle   S.  Spafford         _________         President 

Marianne   C.   Sharp         _______         First   Counselor 

Velma  N.  Simonsen  _____      Second  Counselor 

Margaret  C.  Pickering       -----  Secretary-Treasurer 

Anna  B.  Hart  Evon  W.  Peterson  Alberta  H.  Christensen      Edith  P.  Backman 

Edith  S.  Elliott  Louise  W.  Madsen  Mildred  B.  Eyring  Winniefred  S. 

Florence  J.  Madsen  Aleine  M.  Young  Helen  W.  Anderson  Manwaring 

Leone  G.  Layton  Josie  B.  Bay  Gladys  S.  Boyer  Elna  P.  Haymond 

Blanche  B.  Stoddard  Christine  H.  Robinson     Charlotte  A.  Larsen  Annie  M.  Ellsworth 

Mary  R.    Young 
RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 
Editor  -  __________  Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Associate  Editor  -  -  Vesta  P.  Crawford 

General  Manager  ------____  Belle  S.  Spafford 

Vol.   43  APRIL  1956  No.   4 


e 


on  tents 


SPECIAL  FEATURES 

The  Resurrection   LeGrand   Richards  212 

The   British   Mission   Preston   R.    Nibley  218 

Relief  Society  Assists   in  Welfare  Program   for  Marysville — Yuba   City  Flood 

Alice    I.     Ferrin  226 

A  Temple  Will  Be  Built  Mabel  L.   Anderson  235 

Cancer — A  Check-Up  and   a   Check  Sandra   Munsell  244 

The  Relief  Society  Magazine — "A  Messenger"  Emily  C.   Pollei  254 

Trouble    Celia    Luce  256 

Fear  Is   a   Habit  Anne   S.    W.    Gould  257 

Alternate   89 Willard   Luce  262 

Happiness   Now   Wilma   Boyle    Bunker  265 

The  Aspen  Grove   Vernessa  Miller  Nagle  266 

New  Vistas  Jennie  Brown  Rawlins  277 

FICTION— SPECIAL  APRIL  SHORT  STORIES 

A  Full  Hive   Dorothy   Clapp   Robinson  220 

To  You,  Beloved  Lois   E.    Fockner  230 

Lesson   From   Letty   Arlene    D.    Cloward  245 

The  Day  Before  the  Wedding  Dorothy  Boys  Kilian  258 

SERIAL 

There   Is   Still  Time — Chapter   3  Margery   S.    Stewart  267 

GENERAL  FEATURES 

Sixty  Years  Ago  238 

Woman's    Sphere Ramona    W.    Cannon  239 

Editorial:      A   Woman   and  Her   Garden   Vesta   P.    Crawford  240 

Leone  O.   Jacobs   Resigns  From  the  General  Board   241 

Notes  to  the  Field:  Brigham    Young    University    Leadership    Week    242 

Book    of    Mormon    Reading    Project    242 

Hymn    of   the    Month    243 

Notes   From   the   Field:   Relief  Society  Activities   Margaret   C.    Pickering  272 

From  Near  and  Far  280 

FEATURES  FOR  THE  HOME 

Typical  British  Recipes Elaine  Reiser  248 

Old-Fashioned   Flowers   in   Modern   Gardens    Dorthea    N.    Newbold  250 

Ella  Randall  Lewis   Pieces  Quilts   for  Happiness   257 

A  Use   for   Old  Screens  Elizabeth   Williamson  279 

Poetry 

To   a    Child   Gardening — Frontispiece   Maryhale    Woolsey  211 

"Before  Your  Beauty,"  by  Christie  Lund  Coles,  216;  "Blessed  Easter,"  by  Remelda  Nielsen 
Gibson,  217;  "Lift  Your  Eyes,"  by  Mabel  Law  Atkinson,  225;  "Springtime  Finds  the  Canyon," 
by  Evelyn  Fjeldsted,  234;  "Now  Spring,"  by  Dorothy  J.  Roberts,  237;  "Before  Night-Shadows 
Fall,"  by  Maude  O.  Cook,  243;  "Heartsease,"  by  Beulah  Huish  Sadleir,  244;  "Remember 
Today,"  by  Daphne  Jemmett,  253;  "Her  Gift,"  by  Delia  Adams  Leitner,  256;  "The  Kingbird," 
by  Ethel  Jacobson,  261;  "Sacred  Ground,"  by  Ida  Isaacson,  265;  "April-Fingered,"  by  Eva 
Willes  Wangsgaard,  271;  "Palomino,"  by  Maude  Rubin,  276;  "Circle,"  by  Catherine  E.  Berry, 
278;    To  the   Relief   Society  Visiting  Teachers,"   by   Hazel   Jones    Owen,    279. 

PUBLISHED  MONTHLY  BY  THE  GENERAL  BOARD  OF  RELIEF  SOCIETY 

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ZCMI  ART  NEEDLEWORK— 
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C/o    a    Lshild    (gardening 

Maryhale  Woolsey 

Make  smooth  the  bed  in  which  the  seed  shall  lie— 
This  small  brown  plot  of  earth  that  claims  your  toil; 
Clear  out  the  stones,  and  break  the  rough,  hard  clods, 
And  finely  sift  the  dark  and  humid  soil. 

(Dream,  child,  of  tall  bright  flowers,  and  the  day 
You'll  take  to  Mother-dear  a  fine  bouquet.) 

Deep  go  the  roots  (and  not  the  plant's  alone!) 
And  lightward  rise  the  questing  leaf  and  stem, 
Taking  in  turn,  of  soil  and  sun  and  rain, 
The  contributions  growth  demands  from  them. 

(Watch,  child;  tend  well— and  learn,  as  seedlings  grow 
To  blossomed  strength,  much  you  will  need  to  know.) 

Far  stretch  the  days— to  you,  so  endless-long! 
Tall  shining  noons  and  phantom  dreaming  nights 
Will  try  your  patience,  mystify  your  mind— 
And  bring  at  last  your  harvest  of  delights. 

(Learn  from  your  garden,  child,  how  God  and  you 
Co-operate  to  make  a  dream  come  true!) 


The  Cover:  Big  Ben  and  Parliament  Square,  London,  England 
Photograph  submitted  by  Elaine  Reiser 

Frontispiece:  Amaryllis,  Photograph  by  Ward  Linton 

Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 


The  Resurrection 


Elder  LeGrand  Richards 
Of  the  Council  of  The  Twelve 


OF  all  the  blessings  and  priv- 
ileges the  gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ  has  to  offer  its  faith- 
ful members,  the  promised  resurrec- 
tion from  the  dead  is  one  of  the 
greatest,  for  it  opens  the  door  to  an 
eternal  association  with  loved  ones 
and  friends,  which  condition  we 
have  the  capacity  to  understand  and 
appreciate  at  least  in  part. 

Jesus  was  the  greatest  character 
who  has  ever  lived  upon  the  earth, 
for  he  was  not  only  the  Creator  of 
this  world,  but  of  "worlds  without 
number"  (Moses  1:33),  and  he 
came  into  the  world  of  his  own  free 
will  and  choice,  and  gave  his  life 
to  atone  for  the  sins  of  the  world, 
so  that  what  man  lost  through  the 
transgression  of  Adam  he  might  re- 
gain through  Christ's  great  atoning 
sacrifice.  Hence  the  words  of  the 
Apostle  Paul:  "As  in  Adam  all  die, 
even  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made 
alive"  (I  Cor.  15:22). 

The  angels  proclaimed  the  birth 
of  Jesus  as  Israel's  promised  Mes- 
siah; he  demonstrated  in  all  his 
teachings  and  the  miracles  he  per- 
formed, that  he  was  the  Son  of 
God,  and  that  all  power  was  given 
unto  him  in  heaven  and  upon  earth, 
even  the  power  to  lay  down  his  life 
and  take  it  up  again  (John 
10:17-18).  But  the  final  proof  of 
all  his  claims  came  when  the  stone 
was  rolled  away  from  the  door  of 
the  sepulcher,  notwithstanding  the 
presence  of  the  Roman  guard,  and 
his    body   came    forth   after   three 

Page  212 


days,  as  he  had  said,  and  when  the 
women  approached  the  sepulcher 
and  found  the  stone  rolled  away, 
and  "found  not  the  body  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,"  they  were  much  per- 
plexed, and  two  men  stood  by  them 
in  shining  garments  and  said: 
"Why  seek  ye  the  living  among  the 
dead?  He  is  not  here,  but  is 
risen." 

When  the  women  reported  this 
experience  unto  the  apostles  "their 
words  seemed  to  them  as  idle  tales, 
and  they  believed  them  not."  (See 
Luke  24:1-12.) 

Even  though  Jesus  had  told  his 
apostles  that:  "The  Son  of  man 
must  be  delivered  into  the  hands 
of  sinful  men,  and  be  crucified,  and 
the  third  day  rise  again"  (Luke 
24:7),  they  could  hardly  believe. 
How  then  could  the  world  be  ex- 
pected to  believe?  "That  we  should 
live  again  is  no  more  a  miracle  than 
that  we  live  at  all." 

Upon  receiving  the  report  from 
the  women,  Peter  "ran  unto  the 
sepulchre;  and  stooping  down,  he 
beheld  the  linen  clothes  laid  by 
themselves,  and  departed,  wonder- 
ing in  himself  at  that  which  was 
come  to  pass"  (Luke  24:12). 

As  the  apostles  were  gathered  to- 
gether: 

Jesus  himself  stood  in  the  midst  of 
them,  and  saith  unto  them,  Peace  be 
unto  you.  But  they  were  terrified  and 
affrighted,  and  supposed  that  they  had 
seen  a  spirit.  And  he  said  unto  them, 
Why  are  ye  troubled?  and  why  do 
thoughts   arise   in    your   hearts?      Behold 


THE  RESURRECTION 


213 


my  hands  and  my  feet,  that  it  is  I  myself: 
handle  me,  and  see;  for  a  spirit  hath  not 
flesh  and  bones,  as  ye  see  me  have. 

And  when  he  had  thus  spoken,  he 
shewed  them  his  hands  and  his  feet.  And 
while  they  yet  believed  not  for  joy,  and 
wondered,  he  said  unto  them,  Have  ye 
here  any  meat?  And  they  gave  him  a 
piece  of  a  broiled  fish,  and  of  an  honey- 
comb. And  he  took  it,  and  did  eat  be- 
fore them  (Luke  24:36-43). 

Without  his  body  of  flesh  and 
bone,  Jesus  would  not  have  eaten 
the  fish  and  honeycomb.  What 
greater  proof  could  he  have  given 
of  his  resurrection? 

pOLLOWING  his  resurrection, 
Jesus  "shewed  himself  alive  after 
his  passion  by  many  infallible 
proofs,  being  seen  of  them  forty 
days " 

And  when  he  had  spoken  these  things, 
while  they  beheld,  he  was  taken  up;  and 
a  cloud  received  him  out  of  their  sight. 

And  while  they  looked  steadfastly  to- 
ward heaven  as  he  went  up,  behold,  two 
men  stood  by  them  in  white  apparel; 
Which  also  said,  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why 
stand  ye  gazing  up  into  heaven?  this  same 
Jesus,  which  is  taken  up  from  you  into 
heaven,  shall  so  come  in  like  manner  as 
ye  have  seen  him  go  into  heaven  (Acts 
1:3,  9-11). 

It  seems  incredible  that,  in  the 
light  of  this  plain  and  convincing 
evidence  of  his  resurrection,  "by 
many  infallible  proofs"  lasting  over 
a  period  of  "forty  days,"  that  men 
should  believe  today  that  Jesus  is 
a  spirit  or  essence  everywhere  pres- 
ent, which  would  imply  that  he  had 
died  a  second  death,  that  his  spirit 
and  body  were  again  separated,  else 
how  could  he  be  now  but  a  spirit? 

It  was  in  this  glorified,  resurrect- 
ed body  that  Jesus  appeared  unto 


the  Nephites  in  the  land  of  Ameri- 
ca (See  3  Nephi  11),  and  unto  Jo- 
seph Smith  while  he  was  but  a 
boy,  in  the  woods  on  his  father's 
farm  at  Palmyra,  New  York. 

To  further  prove  that  the  resur- 
rection would  come  to  all  men  be- 
cause Jesus  was  victor  over  death 
and  the  grave,  the  graves  of  many 
who  slept  were  opened  following 
his  resurrection,  and  they  came 
forth. 

And  the  graves  were  opened;  and  many 
bodies  of  the  saints  which  slept  arose. 

And  came  out  of  the  graves  after  his 
resurrection,  and  went  into  the  holy  city, 
and  appeared  unto  many  (Mt.  27:52-53). 

If  the  resurrection  were  to  be  but 
a  spiritual  resurrection,  as  some 
teach  and  believe,  there  would  have 
been  no  need  of  the  graves  having 
been  opened,  and  this  account 
would  not  have  stated:  "and  many 
bodies  of  the  saints  which  slept 
arose."  Thus  the  bodies  and  spirits 
were  again  united. 

The  Lord  revealed  unto  the 
Prophet  Joseph  Smith  that  when 
the  body  and  spirit  are  separated, 
they  cannot  receive  a  fulness  of 
joy.  "For  man  is  spirit.  The  ele- 
ments are  eternal,  and  spirit  and 
element,  inseparably  connected,  re- 
ceive a  fulness  of  joy;  And  when 
separated,  man  cannot  receive  a 
fulness  of  joy"  (D.  &  C.  93:33-34). 

There  were  also  those  who  were 
resurrected  among  the  Nephites  in 
America,  following  Christ's  resur- 
rection (3  Nephi  23:9-13). 

That  is  why  Paul  tells  us  that 
Christ  was  the  "firstfruits"  of  the 
resurrection. 

"But  every  man  in  his  own  order: 
Christ  the  firstfruits;  afterward  they 


214 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


that   are   Christ's   at   his   coming" 
(I  Cor.  15:23). 

\17E   should  mention  his  second 
coming  to  which  the  apostle 
Paul  refers. 

All  through  his  earthly  ministry, 
Jesus  looked  forward  to,  and  taught 
his  disciples  of  his  second  coming: 
his  parable  of  the  five  wise  and  five 
foolish  virgins.  "Watch  therefore, 
for  ye  know  neither  the  day  nor  the 
hour  wherein  the  Son  of  man  com- 
eth"  (Mt.  25:1-13). 

His  declaration: 

When  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in 
his  glory,  and  all  the  holy  angels  with 
him,  then  shall  he  sit  upon  the  throne  of 
his  glory: 

And  before  him  shall  be  gathered  all 
nations:  and  he  shall  separate  them  one 
from  another,  as  a  shepherd  divideth  his 
sheep  from  the  goats  (Mt.  25:31-32). 

His  disciples  fully  understood 
from  his  teachings  that  he  would 
come  again.  When  "he  sat  upon 
the  Mount  of  Olives,"  they  "came 
unto  him  privately,  saying,  Tell  us, 
when  shall  these  things  be?  and 
what  shall  be  the  sign  of  thy  com- 
ing, and  of  the  end  of  the  world?" 
(Mt.  24:3). 

Of  course,  they  had  reference  to 
his  second  coming,  for  he  was 
already  with  them.  And  while  Jesus 
gave  them  many  signs  of  his  com- 
ing, he  informed  them: 

But  of  that  day  and  hour  knoweth  no 
man,  no,  not  the  angels  of  heaven,  but 
my  Father  only. 

But  as  the  days  of  Noe  were,  so  shall 
also  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  man  be 
(Mt.  24:36-37). 

Then  we  have  his  final  testimony 


as  he  stood  trial  before  the  chief 
priests  and  elders: 

But  Jesus  held  his  peace.  And  the  high 
priest  answered  and  said  unto  him,  I 
adjure  thee  by  the  living  God,  that  thou 
tell  us  whether  thou  be  the  Christ,  the 
Son  of  God. 

Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Thou  hast  said: 
nevertheless  I  say  unto  you,  Hereafter 
shall  ye  see  the  Son  of  man  sitting  on 
the  right  hand  of  power,  and  coming  in 
the  clouds  of  heaven  (Mt.  26:63-64). 

When  John,  the  beloved  apostle 
of  our  Lord,  was  banished  upon 
the  Isle  of  Patmos,  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  showed  him  many  things 
from  before  the  foundation  of  the 
world  to  the  winding  up  scenes 
when  we  would  have  a  new  heaven 
and  a  new  earth,  and  among  other 
things,  he  was  shown  the  coming 
of  the  Savior  according  to  his  prom- 
ise, and  the  resurrection  of  the 
worthy  dead  at  his  coming;  when 
Satan  would  be  bound  for  a  thou- 
sand years: 

.  .  .  and  they  lived  and  reigned  with 
Christ  a  thousand  years. 

But  the  rest  of  the  dead  lived  not  again 
until  the  thousand  years  were  finished. 
This  is  the  first  resurrection. 

Blessed  and  holy  is  he  that  hath  part 
in  the  first  resurrection:  on  such  the  sec- 
ond death  hath  no  power,  but  they  shall 
be  priests  of  God  and  of  Christ,  and  shall 
reign  with  him  a  thousand  years  (Rev. 
20:4-6). 

What  a  promised  privilege  to  the 
faithful!  Think  of  being  associated 
with  Christ  in  his  ministry  for  a 
thousand  years  with  our  resurrected 
bodies,  while  he  is  overcoming  all 
his  enemies,  and  preparing  his  king- 
dom to  be  delivered  unto  his 
Father,  as  Paul  explains: 


THE  RESURRECTION 


215 


Then  cometh  the  end,  when  he  shall 
have  delivered  up  the  kingdom  to  God, 
even  the  Father;  when  he  shall  have  put 
down  all  rule  and  all  authority  and  power. 

For  he  must  reign,  till  he  hath  put  all 
enemies  under  his  feet. 

The  last  enemy  that  shall  be  destroyed 
is  death  (I  Cor.  15:24-26). 

TF  we  had  the  capacity  to  under- 
stand the  magnitude  of  these 
promises,  it  would  seem  that  none 
should  falter,  but  that  each  would 
so  live  that  he  would  be  worthy  to 
have  part  in  the  first  resurrection, 
and  that  we  would  all  do  all  in  our 
power  to  help  our  loved  ones  and 
friends  to  live  to  be  worthy  of  these 
blessings,  remembering  the  words 
of  our  Savior: 

* .  .  .  strait  is  the  gate,  and  nar- 
row is  the  way,  which  leadeth  unto 
life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it" 
(Mt.  7:14). 

Because,  as  the  apostle  Paul  tells 
us: 

But  the  natural  man  receiveth  not  the 
things  of  the  Spirit  of  God:  for  they  are 
foolishness  unto  him:  neither  can  he 
know  them,  because  they  are  spiritually 
discerned   (I  Cor.   2:14). 

It  is  because  the  natural  man  can- 
not understand  the  things  of  God 
that  we  read  such  statements  as 
this:  In  Senator  Albert  J.  Bev- 
eridge's  book,  The  Young  Man  and 
the  World,  the  Senator  quotes  the 
following  statement  made  to  him 
by  a  man  whose  name  is  known  to 
the  railroad  world  as  one  of  the 
ablest  transportation  men  in  the 
United  States:  "I  would  rather  be 
sure  that  when  a  man  dies  he  will 
live  again  with  his  conscious  iden- 
tity, than  to  have  all  the  wealth  of 


the  United  States,  or  to  occupy  any 
position  of  honor  or  power  the 
world  could  possibly  give." 

Measured  by  this  man's  appraisal, 
how  rich  and  favored  we  are,  for 
this  is  common  knowledge  to  a 
Latter-day  Saint. 

From  a  revelation  to  the  Prophet 
Joseph  Smith,  we  read: 

When  the  Savior  shall  appear  we  shall 
see  him  as  he  is.  We  shall  see  that  he 
is  a  man  like  ourselves. 

And  that  same  sociality  which  exists 
among  us  here  will  exist  among  us  there, 
only  it  will  be  coupled  with  eternal  glory, 
which  glory  we  do  not  now  enjoy  (D.  &  C. 

130:1-2). 

\\7E  have  never  seen  a  person  who 
has  been  clothed  with  "eternal 
glory,"  but  the  Prophet  Joseph 
Smith  described  such  a  man,  Mo- 
roni, who  appeared  to  him.  After 
giving  a  detailed  description,  he 
stated: 

Not  only  was  his  robe  exceedingly 
white,  but  his  whole  person  was  glorious 
beyond  description,  and  his  counte- 
nance truly  like  lightning.  (See  P.  of  G. 
P.,  Joseph  Smith  2:30-32.) 

When  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
showed  John  the  Revelator,  while 
banished  upon  the  Isle  of  Patmos, 
so  many  wonderful  things,  John  was 
so  impressed  with  his  personage,  for 
he  had  been  endowed  with  "eternal 
glory,"  just  as  Moroni  had,  that  he 
fell  down  to  worship  at  the  feet  of 
the  angel: 

Then  said  he  unto  me,  See  thou  do 
it  not:  for  I  am  thy  fellowservant,  and 
of  thy  brethren  the  prophets,  and  of 
them  which  keep  the  sayings  of  this  book: 
worship  God  (Rev.  22:9). 

Thus    this    angel,    and    Moroni, 


216 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


were  real  men  of  the  brethren  who 
had  lived  upon  the  earth,  and  had 
been  resurrected,  and  were  continu- 
ing in  the  service  of  the  Lord,  as  we 
will  all  be  privileged  to  do,  if  we 
are  faithful;  and  the  same  "social- 
ity" which  exists  among  us  here  will 
exist  among  us  then. 

The  Prophet  Isaiah  saw  the  time 

when  we  would  have  a  new  heaven 
and  earth,  and  declared: 

For,  behold,  I  create  new  heavens  and 
a  new  earth:  and  the  former  shall  not  be 
remembered,  nor  come  into  mind  .  .  .  and 
they  shall  build  houses,  and  inhabit  them; 
and  they  shall  plant  vineyards,  and  eat  the 
fruit  of  them. 

They  shall  not  build,  and  another  in- 
habit; they  shall  not  plant,  and  another 
eat;  for  as  the  days  of  a  tree  are  the  days 
of  my  people,  and  mine  elect  shall  long 
enjoy  the  work  of  their  hands. 

They  shall  not  labour  in  vain,  nor  bring 
forth  for  trouble;  for  they  are  the  seed 
of  the  blessed  of  the  Lord,  and  their  off- 
spring with  them   (Isaiah  65:17,  21-23). 

Note  how  Isaiah  makes  plain  the 


fact  that  "they  shall  build  houses, 
and  inhabit  them,  and  they  shall 
plant  vineyards  and  eat  the  fruit  of 
them."  Who  shall  do  all  this? 
Families,  of  course,  just  as  they  do 
now,  for  as  Isaiah  stated:  "they  are 
the  seed  of  the  blessed  of  the  Lord, 
and  their  offspring  with  them." 

This  is,  therefore,  a  continuation 
of  family  organization  after  the  res- 
urrection, in  this  new  world,  a  truth 
the  Lord  has  made  so  plain  through 
his  revelations  to  the  Prophet  Jo- 
seph Smith,  in  this  new  gospel  dis- 
pensation. 

What  a  glorious  day  it  will  be, 
therefore,  when  the  trump  of  God 
shall  sound,  if  we  are  worthy  to 
come  forth  in  the  morning  of  the 
first  resurrection,  to  receive  and  be 
united  with  our  loved  ones,  when 
the  graves  are  open  and  they  come 
forth  through  the  power  of  the 
atonement  wrought  for  us  by  the 
Redeemer  of  the  world  (D.  &  C. 
29:13). 


{Before     Ljour    Ujeauty 

Christie  Lund  Coles 

April,  I  stand  bereft  before  your  beauty, 

Knowing  my  meager  words  can  never  capture 

The  prodigious,  white  beauty  of  this  plum  tree, 

The  air  as  delicate  as  unvoiced  rapture; 

The  morning  like  a  veil  of  marquisette, 

Lifting  to  show  a  day  all  opal-hued; 

The  bird-song,  rhythmic  as  a  minuet; 

The  briefly,  white-starred  grasses,  green-renewed; 

For  words  are  for  the  young  and  the  audacious, 

Those  who  believe  all  things  are  for  the  taking, 

Time  sets  its  seal,  makes  one  more  sagacious  .  .  . 

Silence  is  in  me,  intricate  and  aching. 

All  I  can  bring  you,  world,  after  your  sleeping, 

Is  this  sudden  trembling,  and  this  weeping. 


A  Perry  Picture 


CHRIST  AND  "THE  HOLY  WOMEN" 
From  a  Painting  by  Golz 


[Jolessed   toaster 

RemeJda  Nielsen  Gibson 

He  came  forth  from  the  tomb 
With  animated  breath, 
And  proved  that  in  earth's  room 
One  sheds  the  cloak  of  death. 


Symbolic  now  as  then 
Is  resurrection's  key- 
All  dead  will  rise  again 
To  immortality! 


Page  217 


Qjlfie    [British    1 1  Li 


ission 


Pieston  R.  Nibley 

OEBER  C.  Kimball,  a  member  of  the  first  Quorum  of  the  Twelve,  wrote 
the  following  in  his  history: 

On  Sunday,  the  4th  day  of  June,  1837,  the  Prophet  Joseph  came  to  me,  while  I 
was  seated  in  front  of  the  stand,  above  the  sacrament  table,  on  the  Melchisedek  side 
of  the  Temple  in  Kirtland,  and  whispering  to  me  said:  "Brother  Heber,  the  spirit  of 
the  Lord  has  whispered  to  me;  'Let  my  servant  Heber  go  to  England  and  proclaim  the 
gospel,  and  open  the  door  of  salvation  to  that  nation'  "  (Life  of  Heber  C.  Kimball,  by 
Orson  F.  Whitney,  page  116). 

The  above  event,  it  might  be  said,  marks  the  beginning  of  the  British 
Mission.  Heber  C.  Kimball  responded  to  this  call  and  made  his  way  to 
England,  with  six  of  his  brethren  who  had  volunteered  to  accompany  him. 
These  brethren  were  Orson  Hyde,  Willard  Richards,  Joseph  Fielding, 
John  Goodson,  Isaac  Russel,  and  John  Snyder.  They  arrived  in  Liverpool 
on  July  20,  1837.  After  remaining  there  a  few  days,  they  proceeded  to 
Preston,  where  Elder  Joseph  Fielding's  brother,  Reverend  James  Field- 
ing, was  located.     Reverend  Fielding  offered  the  missionaries  an  oppor- 


Josef  Muench 

CLOVELLY  ON  THE  NORTH  DEVON  COAST,  ENGLAND 

Page  218 


THE  BRITISH  MISSION 


219 


Josef  Muench 


ULLSWATER,  IN  THE  LAKE  DISTRICT,  ENGLAND 


tunity  to  speak  in  his  chapel,  and  accordingly,  they  held  three  meetings. 
Within  ten  days  after  their  arrival  in  Preston,  they  baptized  eight  persons 
who  had  been  members  of  Reverend  Fielding's  congregation.  These  first 
converts  were:  George  D.  Watt,  Charles  Miller,  Thomas  Walmesley,  Ann 
Elizabeth  Walmesley,  Miles  Hodgen,  George  Wate,  Henry  Billsbury, 
Mary  Ann  Brown,  and  Ann  Dawson. 

The  missionary  work  was  soon  extended  to  neighboring  towns  and 
cities  in  England,  and  before  the  close  of  the  year  1837,  ^ne  membership 
of  the  Church  in  the  British  Mission  numbered  over  300.  The  work  has 
continued  unabated  since  that  time,  and  more  than  130,000  converts  have 
entered  the  waters  of  baptism  in  the  century  that  has  passed.  England, 
Scotland,  Wales,  and  Ireland  comprise  the  British  Mission.  There  are 
today  eighty-four  branches  of  the  Church  with  9,239  members.  Elder 
Clifton  G.  Kerr  is  now  president  of  the  British  Mission.  A  site  for 
a  temple  has  been  selected  and  dedicated  by  President  David  O.  McKay, 
at  New  Chapel,  twenty-four  miles  south  of  London.  Eighty-one  Relief 
Society  organizations  were  reported  in  December  1955,  with  1103  mem- 
bers.   Irene  Pack  Kerr  presides  over  the  British  Mission  Relief  Society. 


A  Full  Hive 


Dorothy  CJapp  Robinson 


THE  closing  of  the  front  door 
after  Henry  ripped  the  smile 
from  Adrianne's  face.  She 
bit  her  lip,  hard,  but  her  back  stif- 
fened. 

"He  thought  I  believed  him." 
No,  each  had  made  a  pretense,  she 
admitted,  but  each  knew  this  for 
the  thing  it  was.  If  anyone  else 
had  done  it  to  her— but,  Henry!  No 
matter  how  kindly  meant,  the  sting 
of  his  words  would  never  leave  her. 
Never.  After  all  these  years  —  at 
her  age  —  most  things  she  could 
take  in  her  stride,  but  having  life 
yanked  from  beneath  her  was  not 
one  of  them.  Not  since  Steve  her 
husband  had  been  so  swiftly  and 
unexpectedly  snatched  from  her, 
had  Adrianne  known  such  bitter, 
cankering  despair.  She  reviewed 
her  recent  talk  with  Henry. 

"Has  my  work  suffered?"  She 
had  tried  for  a  light  note  but  had 
not  made  it. 

"You  are  not  being  let  out,  Ad- 
rianne. "  Henry  Woodward's  voice 
had  trailed  to  a  tired  note.  "Do 
you  think  this  is  easy  for  me?" 

But  she  hadn't  been  thinking  of 
him.  "Then  why  are  you  doing  it.  I 
couldn't  help  breaking  my  ankle." 

"Your  accident  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  situation.  Believe  me.  I 
do  appreciate  the  unselfish  service 
you  have  given  the  company  these 
many  years."  Service,  indeed.  She 
had  created  her  position.  "I  am 
merely  asking  you  to  adjust  to  a 
new  situation,"  Henry  was  continu- 
ing. "You  can  refuse,  that  is  your 
privilege.     We   are    getting   older, 

Page  220 


and  sharper  minds  and  more  nimble 
fingers  are  needed.  I  have  turned 
the  active  management  over  to  Fer- 
ris and  I  must— I  am  going  along 
with  his  policy." 

Still  she  was  not  thinking  of 
Henry,  nor  of  what  the  change  must 
mean  to  him.  "You  say  I  am  not 
being  let  out  but  .  .  .  ." 

"It  had  to  come,  Adrianne.  Greta 
Hansen  is  good,  really  good.  She 
has  a  foundation  for  the  work  that 
you  and  I  do  not  have.  She  is  up 
on  the  new  methods.  She  will  car- 
ry the  responsibility  you  have  car- 
ried for  so  long,  but  she  will  still 
have  the  benefit  of  your  judgment 
and  experience.  That  is,  if  you  de- 
cide to  stay  with  us." 

But  the  new  situation  would  not 
last  long,  Adrianne  thought.  She 
was  being  eased  out  for  certain. 

It  was  so  unfair.  She  had  started 
working  for  Henry  Woodward  when 
uWoodies,J  had  merely  meant  sign 
painting.  She  had  helped  make 
"Woods"  one  of  the  best  advertis- 
ing agencies  in  the  state.  She  had 
put  in  many,  many  more  hours  and 
months  than  she  had  been  paid  for. 
During  the  depression,  when  Henry 
was  fighting  so  hard  to  hold  his 
business,  she  had  taken  her  check 
when  and  as  she  could  get  it;  and 
that  was  at  a  time  when  her  own 
children  were  needing  her  more 
and  more.  Once  she  had  even  re- 
fused a  larger  salary  from  a  compet- 
ing company. 

"Getting  older.  How  old  does 
he  think  I  am?"  The  question 
trailed  into  silence.    Henry  knew  to 


A  FULL  HIVE 


221 


a  day  how  old  she  was.  She  and 
Alice,  his  wife,  had  been  born  the 
same  day.  He  had  given  up  active 
management  under  doctor's  orders, 
but  she  was  as  good  a  worker  as  she 
had  ever  been,  better  in  some  ways. 
Fifteen— twelve,  even  ten  years  from 
now  she  might  have  expected  this, 
but  today— now!  She  would  refuse 
to  accept  it.  Work  under  Greta 
Hansen  —  never.  She  knew  the 
merchandise  and  idiosyncrasies  of 
each  company  they  worked  with. 
She  knew  the  type  of  advertising 
copy  they  wanted— or  did  she? 

"I  made  a  mistake  by  going  to 
Verna's  last  spring/'  Adrianne  spoke 
aloud.  It  had  given  Greta  her 
chance.  She  had  brought  in  Whist- 
lers, a  much  desired  account.  Per- 
haps, Adrianne  admitted  grudging- 
ly, it  had  been  the  novelty  of  Greta's 
idea  that  had  tipped  the  scales  in 
favor  of  "Woods."  Adrianne  re- 
membered that  she  had  thought 
the  idea  too  drastic. 

But  even  had  Adrianne  known, 
she  would  still  have  gone  to  help 
Verna.  What  else  would  a  mother 
do  when  her  daughter  was  seriously 
ill?  Henry  had  urged  her  to  go, 
and  Alice  had  come  to  the  house 
and  packed  her  bags,  and  had  tried 
to  allay  her  fears. 

"Verna  is  young,"  Alice  had  said. 
As  if  youth  meant  everything;  but 
Adrianne  admitted  that  in  Verna's 
case  it  had  meant  the  power  to  win 
the  battle. 

Maybe,  Adrianne  thought,  I 
should  resign  and  save  face. 

"DUT  what   of   finances?     If   she 
went    back,    her    salary    would 
probably  be  a  mere  pittance  com- 
pared with  what  she  had  been  get- 


ting. Of  course  each  of  her  boys 
had  asked  her  to  come  live  with 
him  and  Verna  had  asked,  and  real- 
ly meant  it.  I'd  make  a  wonderful 
baby-sitter  and  all-around  flunky 
like  so  many  grandmothers  I  know, 
Verna  thought. 

"Oh,  forgive  me,"  she  whispered 
hurriedly.  She  loved  her  grandchil- 
dren devotedly  and  buying  for  them 
was  the  sweetest  fruit  of  her  earn- 
ings. 

But  how  could  she  quit?  Her 
savings,  hoarded  over  the  years, 
amounted  to  a  pitifully  inadequate 
sum  for  retirement.  When  the 
company  had  first  begun  to  expand 
Henry  had  urged  her  to  buy  stock, 
and  he  had  urged  her  many  times 
since.  She  had  bought  some  and 
had  received  some  as  bonuses  but 
she  had  very  little  now.  There  had 
always  been  so  many  places  for 
every  dollar.  Even  with  the  help 
the  boys  gave  as  they  grew  up,  it 
had  been  nip  and  tuck  to  keep 
ahead  of  expenses. 

And  after  the  boys  were  married 
there  had  been  crises  when  her  help 
was  needed,  Dan's  medical  school- 
ing and  Bill's  long  sickness  and 
there  had  been  a  million  lesser 
crises  when  she  hadn't  really  needed 
to  help,  but  had.  The  boys  were 
repaying  what  they  had  borrowed, 
but  it  was  slow  business  for  they 
had  the  expenses  of  their  own  grow- 
ing families.  She  could  have 
bought  less  for  her  grandchildren, 
but  she  was  always  remembering 
how  wonderful  a  little  help  would 
have  been  at  that  period  in  her 
own  struggle. 

Adrianne  decided  she  might  as 
well  face  it.  She  hadn't  prepared 
for    this    day.     There    had    always 


222 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


been  next  year.    Now  next  year  was 
gone. 

Determined  to  put  the  situation 
from  her  mind,  Adrianne  reached 
for  the  letter  she  had  been  writing 
when  Henry  had  called.  But  it  was 
no  good. 

TT  might  have  been  an  hour  or  a 

year  later  when  she  was  pulled 
from  her  despairing  thoughts  by  the 
sound  of  running  feet. 

"May  I  come  in?"  The  door  had 
already  opened  and  a  bright  head 
peeked  through. 

"Oh,  Jeanne."  It  was  not  hard 
for  Adrianne  to  smile.  Just  looking 
at  Jeanne  brought  a  smile.  She  was 
spring  in  person.  Her  skin  and 
voice  could  belong  only  to  joyous 
youth.  What  a  sweet  daughter  she 
would  make. 

Jeanne  held  out  a  single  daffodil 
on  a  long  stem.  "I  had  to  bring 
it  to  you." 

Adrianne's  self-control  could  not 
keep  her  hand  from  trembling. 
Jeanne  saw. 

"Don't  feel  badly,  Mrs.  Carson." 
She  threw  her  arms  around  Adri- 
anne and  kissed  her.  "We  have  all 
seen  it  coming,  and  are  so  relieved 
that  you  are  not  being  let  out  like 
poor  Olive.  I  heard  Mr.  Woodward 
being  very  emphatic  about  that." 
Jeanne  was  too  young,  too  naive  to 
dissemble,  and  she  did  not  know 
how  much  she  was  telling.  "I  heard 
Big  Boss  Ferris  say  they  were  adjust- 
ing your  salary  instead  of  retiring 
you,  and  you  can  be  sure  of  it  until 
—until— well,"  she  blurted,  "think 
how  wonderful  it  will  be  when  you 
are  sixty-five.  My  grandmother 
doesn't  have  a  cent  except  what  we 
give  her." 


The  cankering  came  back,  double 
strength.  Jeanne's  grandmother  was 
in  her  late  seventies,  but  to  Jeanne 
all  grandmothers  were  in  the  same 
class. 

"It— it— is  very  kind,  but  I  prefer 
staying  with  my  work." 

"Certainly,  you  do,  darling,  and 
that  is  one  reason  I  love  you.  You 
haven't  let  down  as  most  old  women 
do.  But  the  axe  has  fallen.  Olive 
was  let  out  and  another  one  or  two. 
You  know  Greta  has  your  place? 
Isn't  that  terrible?" 

Honor  demanded  that  Adrianne 
be  fair.  "She  will  be  good.  She  is 
a  different  generation,  but  she  is 
very  good  and  she  will  be  fair." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that." 
Suddenly  tears  were  running  down 
Jeanne's  cheeks.  She  dabbed  at 
them  with  her  handkerchief.  "I 
came  down  here  to  cheer  you,  and 
just  look  at  me.  Greta  might  be 
good  but  you  are— you're  real  good. 
You've— you've  .  .  .  ." 

She  didn't  go  on  and  a  real  smile 
welled  up  from  Adrianne's  heart- 
ache. Even  the  young  had  their 
problems,  and  to  them  they  were 
so  big.  She  had  mothered  Jeanne 
and  given  her  extra  help  when  she 
was  learning.  Greta  was  made  of 
sterner  stuff.  She  was  too  old  for 
Jeanne's  generation,  and  too  young 
for  a  grandmother's. 

"After  all,  Jeanne,  you  won't  be 
working  much  longer." 

"That's  just  it."  Jeanne  became 
slightly  incoherent.  "You  see  we— 
that  is,  Joe— well,  we  can't  be  mar- 
ried unless  Joe  gets  a  raise  or  I  go 
on  working.  Apartments  are  just 
out  of  this  world.  Yes,  I  know 
what  you  think  about  my  working," 
she  added  hastily,  "but  what  else 


A  FULL  HIVE 


223 


can  we  do  and  it  wouldn't  be  for 
long?  With  you  there  —  well,  you 
know  I  am  a  little  slow  especially  if 
I  am  afraid.  Just  think,  what  if  I 
should  get  married  and  then  lose 
my  job?" 

■IFm  sure  it  will  work  out.  Go 
ahead  and  get  married.  You  will 
meet  the  emergency  if  it  comes." 

'That  would  be  a  miracle.  We 
have  figured  and  we  have  prayed 
and  we  have  looked,  and  we  can't 
see  any  way  out.  But  don't  think 
that  is  the  only  reason  I  want  you 
back.  I've  loved  working  with  you." 
She  rose  reluctantly.  T  must  not 
be  late." 

'That  was  thoughtful  of  you  to 
come,  Jeanne.  You  have  missed 
your  lunch,  and  you  will  be  starved 
by  closing  time." 

"Think  nothing  of  it.  I  might 
as  well  get  accustomed  to  scanty  ra- 
tions. Besides,  Joe  is  waiting  to 
drive  me  back.  I'll  eat  my  sandwich 
on  the  way.  Goodbye,  darling." 
She  stooped  and  gave  Adrianne  a 
soft  kiss.  As  she  went  through  the 
door  she  turned.  "She's  coming  to 
see  you  after  work.  Don't  let  her 
get  you  down." 

CO  that  was  the  purpose  of 
Jeanne's  visit.  The  real  reason. 
She  did  not  want  Adrianne  to  be 
unprepared.  Sweet  child. 

At  length  Adrianne  hobbled  to 
where  her  stationery  box  lay,  but 
she  made  no  effort  to  finish  the 
letter  she  had  been  writing  to  Bill. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  me?" 
Adrianne  mused.  "If  I  can't  adjust, 
I  am  really  old."  But  she  didn't 
think  she  was  old.  She  knew  she 
wasn't,  in  spite  of  Jeanne's  gentle 
hints.    She  had  several  friends  old- 


er than  she  who  were  secure  in  their 
positions. 

Consciously  she  let  her  thoughts 
range  back  over  the  years.  Life  had 
demanded  many  adjustments  of  her, 
and  some  bitter  ones.  In  her  late 
twenties  she  had  had  to  take  up  the 
life  of  a  widow  with  four  children 
to  support.  David  her  son  had  died 
at  twelve.  And  she  still  chilled  at 
the  memory  of  the  emptiness  of  her 
house  when  her  last  child  had  mar- 
ried. Four  years  ago  Verna  her 
daughter  had  moved  to  California, 
leaving  her  completely  alone.  Both 
boys  were  in  the  East.  Now— now 
when  she  had  nothing  but  her 
work,  that,  too,  had  been  taken 
from  her.  It  was  like  stealing  honey 
bees  had  gathered  and  leaving  them 
to  face  winter  with  an  empty  hive. 

In  desperation  she  turned  to  her 
book  shelves.  One  volume  after 
another  was  examined  and  discard- 
ed. She  caressed  her  Bible,  but  it, 
too,  was  put  back.  Then  a  shabby 
old  book  caught  her  attention.  It 
was  the  life  of  Madame  Schumann- 
Heink.  The  great  singer's  courage 
and  persistence  had  lifted  Adrianne 
over  many  bad  hours.  She  opened 
the  book  and,  by  some  perverse 
chance,  noticed  a  marked  passage, 
"My  art  was  the  one  thing  that 
never  failed  me." 

Nonsense.  That  was  all  right  for 
a  woman  who  wrote  her  own  ticket. 
Just  when  she  needed  her  art  it  had 
failed  her  most  miserably.  All  her 
years  of  work  and  study  had  brought 
her— this. 

She  might  sell,  or  rent  her  home. 
She  and  Steve  had  bought  this  place 
together.  Through  good  years  and 
lean  ones  she  had  kept  up  the  pay- 
ments.   She  had  enlarged  and  mod- 


224 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


ernized  it.  Now  she  owned  it,  and 
it  was  home  to  children  and  grand- 
children. To  part  with  it  would 
be  like— like  ....  Suddenly  she 
dropped  her  head  to  her  arm  and 
wept  as  she  had  not  wept  in  years. 

HPHE  pealing  of  the  telephone 
brought  her  back  from  her  prob- 
lem. Let  it  ring.  She  would  not  talk 
to  any  one  just  now.  She  would  not 
be  pitied.  It  rang  again,  and  again, 
insistently.  Gingerly  she  raised  the 
receiver.    "Yes?" 

"Is  this  32-435?" 

Long  Distance.  Fear  shoved  self- 
pity  aside.     "Yes.     Yes.     This   is 

32'435" 

"Is  this— is  this  Grandmother?" 
The  humor  in  the  operator's  voice 
failed  to  cut  through  the  fear. 
Adrianne  held  her  breath.  "Here 
is  your  party.    Go  ahead." 

"Hello-hello." 

"Grandmother,"  came  a  plaintive 
voice  over  the  wire. 

"Steve."  With  one  gasp  Adri- 
anne bridged  seven  hundred  miles 
and  a  thousand  worries.  "Steve. 
Where  are  you?    What  is  wrong?" 

"Grandmother,  where's  Mama?" 

Adrianne  fought  an  impulse  to 
hysteria. 

"Grandmother,  where's  Mama?" 
,  "Isn't  she  there,  Steve?" 

"No,  and  Grandma,  may  I  go  to 
Rusty's?  Mama  said  not  to  go  with- 
out asking." 

"Why  don't  you  wait  until  your 
mother  gets  home?" 

"Why?  I  want  to  go  now.  May 
I?" 

Adrianne  glanced  briefly  at  her 
watch.  Today  was  Tuesday.  "Steve, 
did  Mama  go  to  Relief  Society?" 


"I  don't  know,  but  may  I  go?  She 
won't  mind,  if  you  say  so." 

Suddenly  there  was  nothing  in 
the  world  as  important  as  this  de- 
cision. It  must  be  the  right  one. 
But  Steve  wanted  an  answer. 

"How  did  you  know  my  num- 
ber?" she  asked,  playing  for  time. 
She  remembered  the  operator  had 
asked  if  this  were  "Grandmother." 

"I  always  knowed  it."  Disgust 
tinged  his  impatience.  "Rusty  is 
waiting.    Can  I  go?" 

There  had  to  be  a  direct  answer. 
"Yes,  Steve,  if  you  will 

"Thanks.  Goodbye."  She  heard 
the  receiver  drop  and  the  banging 
of  a  screen  door.  She  waited,  hop- 
ing. It  would  not  help  to  hang  up 
and  call  back.  Again  she  heard  the 
closing  of  a  door  and  someone  mov- 
ing about. 

"Who  left  the  receiver  down?" 
It  was  Verna's  voice. 

"Verna.    Verna,  wait  .  .  .  ." 

Verna  must  have  heard.  "Is  some- 
one on  the  line?"  she  asked. 

"Yes.  Yes,  it  is  Mother.  Don't 
hang  up." 

"MOTHER!  What  haPPened? 
Is  something  wrong?"  The 
very  words  she  had  used  for  Steven 
and  in  the  same  tone.  All  the  ten- 
sion of  this  horrible  day  dissolved 
into  nothingness  at  the  anxiety  in 
her  daughter's  voice.  Adrianne 
laughed  and  cried  and  strangled 
over  words. 

"Mother.  For  goodness  sake. 
Tell  me  what  happened." 

"Well— I  thought  my  honey  had 
been  stolen,  but  the  hive  is  full 
after  all." 

There  was  an  ominous  silence, 
then,  "If  you  don't  tell  me  this 
instant  .  .  .  ." 


A  FULL  HIVE 


225 


"Nothing  is  wrong,  dear.  Every- 
thing is  right,  but  I  didn't  recognize 
how  right  until  I  heard  Steve's 
voice.  You  see,  if  you  want  honey, 
you  have  to  take  the  sting  of  the 
bees  along  with  it." 

"Is  that  what  you  called  up  to 
say?  You're  not  slightly  out  of 
your  head,  are  you?" 

"No.  I  told  you  I  am  all  right. 
Steve  called  me."  She  could  hear 
the  sigh  of  relief  that  followed  her 
normal  tone.  "He  wanted  to  go  to 
Rusty 's.  How  did  he  know  my 
number?  He  apparently  didn't 
know  my  last  name." 

Verna  was  indignant.  "They  all 
know  your  number,  Mother.  That 
is  one  of  the  first  things  they  learn." 
Then  Verna  chuckled.  "Such  a 
goofy  conversation.  He  must  have 
frightened  you  as  much  as  you  did 
me.  I  was  beginning  to  wonder." 
In  spite  of  its  lightness,  the  tone 
was  definitely  one  of  mother  to 
child. 

"Don't  worry.  I  am  still  of  sound 
body  and  mind— and  spirit,  but 
I'm,"  Adrianne  swallowed  hard.  "I 
find  I  am  not  as  young  as  I  once 
was.      I'm— I'm    stepping   down    a 


grade  or  two  at  the  office.  The  ten- 
sion won't  be  so— that  is,  my  work 
will  be  more  or  less  routine.  Noth- 
ing to  keep  me  awake  nights." 

"Mother,  really?  That  is  the  best 
news  you  could  have  given  me.  We 
have  all  worried  about  your  carrying 
such  a  load;  and  if  you  need  help 
you  .... 

"I'll  get  by.  Maybe,  just  maybe 
Jeanne  and  Joe  will  move  in  with 
me. 

"What  a  relief  that  would  be  to 
know  you  are  not  alone,  and  it  will 
help  with  your  expenses.  That  house 
is  large  enough  for  two  families  and 
privacy.  But  remember,  Ted  has 
finished  our  apartment,  and  it  will 
be  waiting,  if  and  when  you  decide 
to  use  it." 

Afterward  Adrianne  sat  thinking. 
She  was  definitely  committed  and 
she  was  glad.  This  way  she  could 
go  on  working  for  a  long  time  yet. 
The  book  of  Schumann-Heink  was 
still  on  the  table. 

"You  were  right,"  she  said  aloud. 
"Art  doesn't  let  you  down.  My  real 
art,  and  it  isn't  advertising  copy,  will 
never  let  me  down.  Steve's  call 
proved  that." 


JLtft     Ljour    (byes 

Mabel  Law  Atkinson 

With  eyes  downcast  in  grief  and  doubt, 
Slowly  I  walked  a  country  lane. 
I  failed  to  hear  the  joyous  shout 
Of  springtime  after  April  rain — 
A  violet  in  the  greening  sod 
Whispered,  "Lift  your  eyes  to  God." 

The  very  greenness  whistled  then; 
My  ears  received  the  robin's  call; 
My  thoughts  escaped  their  stagnant  fen 
To  hear  a  laughing  waterfall — 
My  heart  held  room  for  no  regrets 
Weaving  a  lei  of  violets. 


[Relief  Society  Assists  in    welfare  Lrrogram  for 
1 1 larysville  -    LJuoa   L^ity  Qjlooa 

Alice  J.  Fen  in 
President,  Gridley  Stake  (California)   Relief  Society 


ON  Christmas  Eve,  many  of  the 
saints  in  the  Gridley  Stake 
left  their  radios  turned  on 
until  very  late,  dreading  what 
seemed  imminent,  and  deeply  con- 
cerned over  the  flood  threat  in  the 
Marysville-Yuba  City  area.  When 
the  levee  of  the  Feather  River  did 
break,  our  thoughts  were  of  the 
many  saints  who  were  having  to 
flee  from  their  homes  at  two  a.m. 
on  December  24,  1955,  before  a 
wall  of  onrushing  muddy  water. 

A  very  few  hours  later  the  Relief 
Society  received  a  call  to  work  with 
the  stake  storehouse  keeper  and  the 
stake  work  director  in  preparing  a 
list  of  welfare  items  which  would 
be  needed  for  these  people. 

Many  who  left  their  homes  were 
able  to  take  only  the  clothes  they 
wore  because  of  lack  of  time  and 
car  space.  A  former  stake  board 
member  said,  "We  barely  had  time 
to  dash  over  and  get  our  eighty- 
year-old  neighbor  who  lives  alone. 
We  could  hear  the  roar  of  the 
water  as  we  hastily  drove  south  to 
Roseville  where  we  have  relatives. 
When  we  next  saw  our  house,  it 
had  been  washed  out  in  the  or- 
chard." 

Immediately  after  the  order  for 
commodities  had  been  completed, 
the  help  of  the  Relief  Society  was 
requested  in  compiling  a  question- 
naire to  be  used  in  survey  work  to 
determine    what    kind    and    how 

Page  226 


much  assistance  would  be  needed 
in  the  stricken  area.  Besides  ques- 
tions to  determine  needs,  available 
services  were  also  indicated.  These 
(besides  a  labor  pool)  included 
thirty  washing  machines  and  driers 
made  available  in  Gridley  (nine- 
teen miles  away).  Often  the  articles 
to  be  washed  had  first  to  be  cleansed 
of  mud  with  a  garden  hose  and,  in 
some  cases,  linens  had  mud  stains 
even  after  careful  and  thorough 
washings.  These  washers  were  kept 
running  for  hours  and  hours  as  it 
was  important  that  things  be 
washed  before  the  mud  dried  on 
them.  Also  available  was  a  forced 
air  furnace  obtained  from  a  dehy- 
drating plant  which  was  set  up  in 
the  Yuba  City  recreation  hall  to 
dry  out  appliance  motors,  mattres- 
ses, and  rugs. 

The  following  day  Relief  Society 
presidents  and  bishops  were  in- 
structed to  call  for  volunteer  work- 
ers from  each  ward  to  go  to  Yuba 
City  to  assist  in  survey  work  and 
clean-up  operations. 

Lists  of  all  the  families  in  the 
two  Yuba  City  wards  were  compiled 
from  ward  teaching  records.  Each 
sister,  from  other  than  the  Yuba 
City  wards,  was  sent  out  with  a 
Yuba  City  sister  who  was  familiar 
with  the  area.  Armed  with  lists  of 
families  in  their  "districts"  and 
questionnaire  blanks  to  be  filled  out 
for     each     family,     these     teams 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  ASSISTS  IN  WELFARE  PROGRAM 


227 


launched  a  systematic  effort  to  help 
these  people  to  bring  order  and 
cleanliness  out  of  chaos  and  mud. 

The  families  were  asked  how 
many  people  they  could  use  in 
cleaning,  and  were  instructed  as  to 
washing  and  drying  services  avail- 
able. They  were  encouraged  to  go 
to  the  chapel  and  have  a  "confer- 
ence" with  the  Relief  Society  presi- 
dents or  bishops  as  to  their  needs 
for  Welfare  items  of  food,  clothing, 
household  supplies,  and  furniture 
from  the  source  of  supply  at  the 
Gridley  Ward  chapel.  The  stake 
Relief  Society  work  director  and 
Gridley  Ward  president  and  other 
tireless  workers  assisted  the  stake 
storehouse  keeper  in  taking  care  of 
the  bishop's  orders.  As  fast  as 
orders  came  in  they  were  filled  from 
the  generous  amount  of  supplies 
sent    from    the    General    Welfare 


Committee  in  Salt  Lake  City  and 
taken  to  Yuba  City  for  distribution. 
Periodically,  survey  teams  re- 
turned to  the  chapel  where  the 
questionnaire  reports  were  given  to 
those  in  charge  of  dispatching  the 
brothers  and  sisters  who  were  wait- 
ing the  chance  to  help  their  neigh- 
bors make  homes  livable  again. 

AN  example  of  the  reaction  to 
this  "labor  of  love"  was  Sister 
Esther  Peters  of  the  Relief  Society 
stake  presidency.  She  was  so  sure 
she  would  "be  back  in  her  home  to 
prepare  breakfast"  that  no  one  made 
any  effort  to  take  more  than  "what 
we  stood  up  in."  It  developed  that 
their  home  was  in  the  swiftest, 
deepest  part  of  the  current  of  the 
rampant  river  and  was  completely 
covered— with  the  exception  of  the 
very  peak  of  the  roof.     The  first 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  WOMEN  INSPECTING  CLOTHING  FOR  FAMILIES 

OF  FLOOD  VICTIMS 


228 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


time  Sister  Peters  saw  her  home 
after  the  devastation  a  veritable 
beehive  of  people  were  busily  scrap- 
ing and  cleaning  and  scooping  out 
mud.  As  she  walked  in  they  looked 
at  her  questioningly.  She  said, 
'I'm  just  the  owner."  Immediately 
they  told  her  she  was  to  look  at 
one  room  only,  the  one  which  had 
been  scrubbed  clean,  and  she  was 
forthwith  piloted  to  that  room. 

Sister  Peters  voiced  the  opinion 
of  many  many  in  the  Gridley  Stake 
when  she  said  this  experience  had 
helped  her  to  realize  how  significant 
are  the  functions  of  the  Welfare 
Plan  in  the  lives  of  all,  how  great 
the  security  it  offers,  with  its  well- 
stocked  storehouse  for  this  huge 
family  which  is  the  organization  of 
our  Father's  children  here  on  earth. 

The  response  to  calls  for  cleanup 
crews  was  beyond  expectations.  Not 
only  were  there  workers  from  all 
wards  in  the  stake,  but  workers 
(men  and  women)  came  from 
wards  in  other  stakes  throughout 
Northern  California.  Finally,  when 
there  were  more  workers  than 
"jobs/'  those  in  charge  sent  crews 
out  to  find  clean-up  jobs.  These 
crews  went  from  house  to  house 
cleaning  homes  and  places  of  busi- 
ness of  members  and  non-members 
alike. 

One  store  was  so  grateful  for  the 
volunteer  laborers  that,  in  return, 
they  were  given  about  seventy  bolts 
of  water-and-mud-damaged  yardage. 
This  was  sent  to  a  ward  to  be 
washed  and  ironed.  The  Relief 
Society  inquired  the  cost  of  having 
it  mangled  at  a  laundry,  and  they 
volunteered  to  do  it  all  for  noth- 
ing, if  none  of  it  was  to  be  sold. 
As  a  result  of  this  project,  many 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  WORKERS 

SORTING  CLOTHING  FOR 

FAMILIES 

families  were  given  yardage  to  help 
out  where  incomes  were  barely 
adequate.  People  in  the  flooded 
area  received  more  than  half  of  the 
noo  yards. 

In  cases  where  sewing  machines 
were  out  of  order  or  mothers  were 
deeply  involved  in  rehabilitation, 
the  sisters  from  other  wards  volun- 
teered to  sew  some  of  the  yardage 
into  clothing.  (The  sisters  seemed 
glad  for  a  sewing  assignment.) 
When  they  were  asked  at  Relief 
Society  to  do  the  sewing,  there  were 
more  volunteers  than  assignments. 

The  stake  Relief  Society  work  di- 
rector reported  another  phase  of  the 
sisters  in  "Relief"  action.  A  call 
was  made  for  good,  used  clothing  to 
help  the  disaster  stricken  families, 
and  the  response  was  such  that 
rooms  were  set  up  in  Gridley  and 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  ASSISTS  IN  WELFARE  PROGRAM 


229 


Yuba  City  wards  with  hanging  bars 
and  tables.  The  clothing  was  sort- 
ed, sized,  and  made  available  in  an 
orderly  way.  Many  of  the  families 
who  lost  everything  were  able  to 
use  much  that  was  there. 

TN  every  aspect  of  this  experience- 
survey,  cleanup,  reclaiming  of 
yardage,  sewing  assignments,  dona- 
tion, and  dispersal  of  used  clothing, 
and,  most  of  all,  in  the  Welfare 
commodities  from  Salt  Lake  City— 
the  response  has  been  more  than 
adequate. 

Our  love  and  concern  for  each 
other  have  increased,  and  we  are 
humbly  grateful  for  these  and  all 
blessings. 

The  task  of  rehabilitation  is  not 
over  and  we  are  still  engaged  in  it. 
To  date  records  show  that  161  sis- 
ters have  worked  2,971  hours.  Al- 
though more  than  six  weeks  have 
elapsed,  it  has  been  in  the  past  week 
only  that  water  has  receded  suf- 
ficiently to  allow  some  people  to 
get  back  to  their  homes.  People 
are  still  conscious  of  need  and  are 
responding.  In  many  homes  there 
is  still  much  to  be  done  when  the 
task  of  drying  them  out  is  com- 
pleted. Unless  damage  is  seen,  one 
can't  realize  the  waste,  spoilage,  and 
havoc  which  follow  in  the  wake  of 


such  a  disaster.  Veneered  surface 
of  furniture  warps  off  in  two  inch 
high  waves.  Dresser  drawers  swell 
and  warp  beyond  repair. 

People  exhibited  fine  spirits. 
Everywhere  was  cheerfulness  and 
gratitude  that  things  were  no  worse. 
People  were  heard  to  say  how  for- 
tunate they  were  because  their 
houses  had  not  cracked  off  their 
foundations,  or  hadn't  been 
wrenched  askew,  or  hadn't  floated 
off  entirely— as  some  did.  Even  the 
tragic  drowning  of  the  bishop's 
counselor  and  his  wife  and  two 
children,  while  it  was  a  great  shock 
to  their  immediate  families,  was 
recognized  as  the  will  of  our 
Heavenly  Father.  The  blessing 
that  they  were  still  all  together  was 
remarked. 

Words  can't  express  the  feeling 
engendered  in  the  midst  of  depres- 
sing disaster  at  the  sight  of  the 
rooms  full  of  commodities  to  re- 
lieve the  needs  of  these  our  sisters 
and  brothers.  Our  testimony  as  to 
the  value  and  effectiveness  of  the 
Welfare  Plan  have  increased  many 
times  over.  We  are  very  grateful 
to  an  all-wise  Heavenly  Father  who, 
through  inspired  leaders,  has  estab- 
lished this  guarantee  of  security  for 
all. 


Information  Sheet 
Name Address Ward 

Has  this  home  been  cleaned  out?  Roughly  by  men?  Completed  by  Relief  Society? 
Does  the  family  have  all  the  basic  food  supplies? 

3.  Do  they  have  adequate  clothing?  Clothing  available  through  Relief  Society. 

4.  Are  they  comfortably  housed?  Where?  Do  they  need  a  house  to  rent? 

5.  Has  their  clothing  been  washed  and  dried?  (Suggest  no  ironing  or  starch) 

6.  Has  the  furniture  been  checked  and  cleaned? 

7.  Appliances  checked?  Washing  Machine?  Refrigerator?  Deep  Freeze? 
Carpentry  repair  needed?  Painting  needed?  Foundation  work  needed? 
Final  clean  up,  yards,  fences,  etc.? 

Everyone  should  contact  their  bishop  and  check  in  at  the  Church. 

Checking  team  

Other  suggestions  and  helps?  Date    


To  You,  Beloved 


Lois  E.  Focknei 


4  i  rTl  HERE  is  one  thing   I  am 

sure    of,    Mama,"    Laurie 

said  bitterly,  "I  will  never 

work  at  this  endless  drudgery  as  you 

do— never!" 

"Did  you  get  in  all  the  clothes?" 
Vivian  asked.  She  felt  vaguely  hurt 
by  her  daughter's  thrust.  In  fact, 
as  a  mother  she  had  felt  on  the  de- 
fensive for  several  months.  Laurie 
didn't  approve  of  anything.  She 
seemed  to  be  disappointed  in  her 
parents  and  disapproved  of  them 
constantly.  Why  did  a  dear,  curly- 
haired  little  girl  suddenly  become  a 
stranger  when  she  reached  fifteen? 
Well,  Vivian  felt  she  did  the  best 
she  could  as  a  mother,  and  Laurie 
would  just  have  to  get  over  it. 

Laurie  came  in  with  a  basket  of 
clean  clothes  and  carried  them  into 
the  old  back-porch  laundry.  Her 
usually  pleasant  little  face  was 
petulant.  In  a  moment  she  came 
back  into  the  kitchen,  her  gray  eyes 
still  stormy  and  rebellious.  Vivian 
smiled  involuntarily.  Laurie  looked 
so  like  Ken  when  she  was  angry. 
Maybe  Ken  would  understand  this 
bitterness  in  his  daughter.  But  she 
hated  to  disturb  him. 

"Would  you  set  the  table, 
Laurie?"  Vivian  peeked  into  the 
oven  to  check  the  scalloped  po- 
tatoes. Little  Keith  would  be  de- 
lighted. How  he  loved  scalloped 
potatoes  with  ham  leftovers. 

Laurie  began  dutifully  to  set  the 
table.  "  I'm  going  to  marry  some- 
one interesting  —  who  cares  about 
me!"  She  spoke  vehemently.  The 
plates  clattered  for  emphasis.  "I 
want  to  be  more  than  just  —  just  a 

Page  230 


mother  to  a  lot  of  babies.     More 
than  just  a  housekeeper." 

Vivian  started  to  scold  and 
sighed  instead.  It  must  be  a  phase. 
She  wished  she  could  feel  more  at 
ease  —  understanding,  instead  of 
hurt  and  defensive.  Didn't  children 
realize  that  mothers  can  be  sensi- 
tive? She  felt  Laurie's  critical  gaze 
and  glanced  down  at  her  faded 
housedress.  Ken  would  be  home 
soon.  He  would  take  off  his  coat 
and  tie,  roll  up  his  shirt  sleeves,  kiss 
her  absently,  and  reach  for  the 
paper.  She  probably  should  make 
more  of  an  effort  to  be  attractive, 
but  where  would  she  find  the  time? 
How  could  she  make  Laurie  under- 
stand that  some  things  in  life  be- 
come so  important  that  they  crowd 
other  things  into  the  background. 

"Laurie,  you  know  .  .  .  ."  Vivian 
groped  for  words.  "You  know, 
dear,  it  isn't  drudgery.  You  love 
the  babies  when  they  come." 

"Oh,  yes!"  Laurie  put  her  hand 
on  her  hip  and  arched  her  eye- 
brows. "Everyone  loves  the  babies, 
but  how  much  time  does  it  leave 
you?  How  long  has  it  been  since 
you  have  done  anything  that  was 
fun  or  exciting?  How  long  has  it 
been  since  you  have  had  a  really 
nice  dress?    Or  your  hair  fixed?" 

"Too  long,"  agreed  Vivian, 
smoothing  her  hair  self-consciously. 
"But  Daddy  seems  to  like  my  hair 
the  way  I  fix  it." 

"Daddy,"  said  Laurie  decidedly, 
"hardly  knows  you  exist.  He  doesn't 
even  look  at  you  most  of  the  time. 
That  is  what  I  mean  .  .  .  ."  Her 
voice  broke,   and   the   tears  came. 


TO  YOU,  BELOVED 


231 


She  stopped,  perplexed  at  her  moth- 
er's look.  "I'll  run  down  to  the 
grocery  and  get  those  things, 
Mama." 


V 


ivian  was  stunned.  Now  she 
understood,  and  with  quick 
mother's  sympathy,  she  wanted  to 
take  her  little  girl  in  her  arms.  But 
Laurie  was  gone  before  she  recov- 
ered her  composure.  Vivian  watched 
her  hurrying  down  the  street,  too 
tall  and  thin  for  fifteen,  but  show- 
ing the  beginning  of  a  lovely  wom- 
an. She  couldn't  keep  the  tears 
back.  Oh,  Ken,  she  thought,  how 
hard  it  is  to  grow  —  to  make  life 
fit  into  our  dreams.  Laurie  doesn't 
know  how  we  care.  She  doesn't 
think  you  love  me  anymore. 

Well,  that  was  the  answer.  Poor 
little  Laurie!  Her  mind  was  full  of 
all  the  beautiful,  romantic  dreams 
that  girls  enjoy.  And  she  couldn't 
reconcile  love  with  marriage,  as  she 
saw  it  everyday.  Vivian  wiped  her 
tears  away  with  strong  resolution. 
She  would  tell  Ken  this  very  even- 
ing, and  they  would  have  to  help 
Laurie  to  understand  the  real  depth 
of  their  love  and  marriage.  And 
they  would  have  to  be  more  demon- 
strative in  front  of  the  children. 
They  needed  to  know  that  their 
mother  and  father  loved  each  other. 
It  was  a  pattern  and  a  security  for 
them. 

The  younger  children  began  to 
run  in  noisily  from  their  play  — 
dirty  and  happy.  Vivian  fought 
down  her  worrying  and,  ignoring 
her  weariness,  forced  herself  to 
smile  and  be  playful  with  them. 

"All  right,  soldiers!  Into  line. 
Forward  march!  Wash  your  hands 
and  faces.  Hurry!  Daddy  will  be 
home  in  a  minute." 


She  stood  for  a  moment  and 
watched  them  troop  merrily  into 
the  bathroom.  Ken  was  proud  of 
his  four  little  sons,  three  little 
daughters,  and  Laurie.  Every  meal 
was  a  party  with  so  many  children. 
Then  she  remembered  the  rolls  and 
hurriedly  popped  them  into  the 
oven,  hoping  they  would  be  ready 
in  time. 

"Oh,  there  is  the  baby!"  They 
were  always  noisy,  and  now  they 
had  awakened  him.  Vivian  stood 
still,  rubbing  her  hand  across  her 
forehead,  gathering  reserve  strength. 
Laurie  was  coming  in  the  door  now. 
Maybe  she  would  see  about  the 
baby.  And  there  was  the  front 
door.    That  would  be  Ken  .... 

'"THREE  hours  later,  unbelievably, 
quiet  reigned.  The  children 
were  all  in  bed,  except  Laurie,  who 
had  gone  to  a  movie.  Ken  was  read- 
ing the  paper  in  his  special  easy 
chair.  Vivian  smiled  as  she  watched 
him  absently  pass  his  hand  over  his 
thin  hair.  She  would  hurry  and  fin- 
ish cutting  out  the  dress  for  Bar- 
bara, and  then  she  would  tell  him. 
She  tried  to  think  just  how  she 
would  explain  it. 

"Come  sit  down,  dear,"  Ken  said 
suddenly,  laying  aside  the  paper. 
"You  never  stop.  No  wonder  you 
are  so  thin." 

Vivian,  startled,  began  taking  the 
pins  out  of  her  mouth  so  she  could 
answer  him. 

' 'Didn't  your  mother  ever  teach 
you  not  to  put  pins  in  your  mouth?" 
her  husband  laughed. 

"She  did,"  replied  Vivian,  "but  I 
guess  I  didn't  hear  very  well." 

"You  are  a  very  disobedient  wom- 
an, and  you  were  probably  a  diso- 
bedient child."     Ken  came  over  to 


232 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


help  her  fold  the  material  and  dress 
pattern.  "But  I  love  you  anyway." 
His  eyes  were  warm  and  tender. 

Vivian  kissed  him  impuslively. 
"Ken,  I  wish  Laurie  .  .  .  ." 

"What  about  Laurie?" 

"Well,  she  has  been  very  upset. 
Critical  and  bad-tempered.  I  can't 
understand.  It— it  isn't  like  her, 
you  know/' 

"Maybe  she  is  sick." 

"No,  dear,  I  found  out  today. 
She— well,  she  thinks  you  don't  love 
me  anymore.  She  feels  that  a  wom- 
an's lot  with  a  big  family  is  just 
drudgery." 

"There  is  nothing  strange  about 
that,  the  way  you  have  to  work.  If 
I  could  afford  .  .  .  ."  Ken  frowned 
helplessly. 

"Now,  don't  worry  about  that.  It 
isn't  the  real  problem.  She  doesn't 
feel  there  is  any  love  or  romance 
left  in  our  marriage.  It  isn't  the 
work  or  the  babies.  Laurie  didn't 
mind  them  before." 

Ken  smiled  boyishly  and  a  little 
embarrassed.  "I  never  would  have 
believed  that  I  would  be  one  to 
disillusion  my  own  daughter." 

"Not  as  a  father,"  Vivian  hastily 
reassured  him,  "as  a  romantic  hus- 
band. I  think  we  are  both  at  fault, 
dear.  Because  we  have  felt  a  little 
shy  and  reticent  in  front  of  our 
children,  they  have  come  to  feel 
that  we  are  indifferent." 

"Well,  we  will  have  to  show 
Laurie  her  mistake,"  said  Ken. 

And  Vivian  sighed  with  relief.  It 
had  been  so  much  easier  than  she 
had  expected. 

Because  their  sixteenth  wedding 
anniversary  was  only  two  weeks 
away,  they  decided  to  use  that 
happy    occasion     to    help    restore 


Laurie's  faith  in  marriage.  Vivian 
spent  many  happy  days  in  prepara- 
tion and  shopping  for  just  the  right 
fishing  rod  for  Ken.  She  took  the 
children  into  her  confidence  and 
there  was  a  great  deal  of  excited 
whispering  after  they  had  helped 
her  safely  bestow  the  treasured  gift 
in  the  dark  confines  of  the  little 
boys'  closet  upstairs.  There  was  a 
singing  in  her  heart  as  she  antici- 
pated his  pleasure  when  he  un- 
wrapped his  gift.  Laurie  had  taken 
some  interest,  but  the  critical  and 
caustic  remarks  were  still  present, 
eroding  the  domestic  happiness  of 
the  whole  family. 

\  7TVIAN  did  not  know  what  Ken 
had  planned,  but  she  felt  a  little 
disappointed  that  he  had  not  taken 
the  children  into  his  confidence  as 
she  had  done.  He  only  smiled 
secretively  and  went  about  his  af- 
fairs with  a  smug  happiness. 

On  the  morning  of  the  anniver- 
sary Vivian  came  to  breakfast  in  a 
frilly  brunch  coat,  an  anniversary 
gift  of  two  years  ago.  She  had  only 
worn  it  twice,  when  she  had  been 
ill,  and  she  put  on  her  new  pink 
lipstick,  carefully.  Ken  whistled 
when  he  saw  her,  and  all  the  chil- 
dren laughed  with  pleasure,  except 
Laurie  who  flushed  and  looked  un- 
comfortable. 

When  Ken  was  off  to  work  and 
the  children  out  to  play,  Vivian 
dressed  in  her  newest  housedress 
and  cleaned  the  house.  Laurie 
helped,  walking  about  quiet  and 
morose  all  morning.  By  the  time 
lunch  was  over  and  the  little  ones 
napping  and  the  larger  ones  out  to 
play  again,  Vivian  was  tired.  She 
sat    clown    limply    in    the   kitchen, 


TO  YOU,  BELOVED 


233 


staring  at  the  gigantic  pile  of  dirty 
dishes  in  the  sink.  Laurie  came  in 
with  some  flowers  and  arranged 
them  tastefully  in  the  living  room. 

'Thank  you,  Laurie/'  Vivian  said. 
'Those  will  be  lovely  for  our  anni- 
versary dinner  tonight." 

"Mama,"  Laurie  began  hesitant- 
ly, "I  told  Bryce  I  didn't  think  I 
wanted  to  go  with  him  anymore." 
At  Vivian's  disapproving  look,  she 
added  hastily,  defensively,  "I  didn't 
think  it  was  fair,  since  I  have  de- 
cided on  a  very  exciting  career  and 
may  never  marry.  Unless  it  were 
someone  really  different,  and  .  .  .  ." 
She  stopped,  groping  for  words. 

"It  seems  a  little  early  to  worry 
about  marriage,"  Vivian  answered. 
"I  mean,  couldn't  you  just  go  out 
on  dates  —  not  always  with  Bryce, 
perhaps." 

"Don't  you  like  Bryce,  Mama?" 
Laurie  swung  around  to  face  Vivian, 
wide-eyed  and  questioning. 

"I  think  he  is  the  nicest  boy  you 
know,"  said  Vivian  sincerely.  "But 
I  don't  imagine  he  is  thinking  about 
marriage— at  his  age." 

"Bryce  is  eighteen,  Mama,"  Lau- 
rie said  with  a  little  toss  of  her  gold- 
en head.  "He—he  thinks  he  would 
like  us  to  get  married  when  he  is 
through  college." 

"Oh."  Vivian  struggled  to  keep 
the  smile  back. 

"But  I  told  Bryce  last  night  that 
I  felt  I  just  wasn't  the  type  for  an 
ordinary  marriage."  She  stressed  the 
ordinary,  and  Vivian  winced.  Over 
her  shoulder,  before  she  disappeared 
upstairs,  she  added,  "If  Daddy  will 
take  you  out  tonight,  Mama,  I  will 
baby-sit.  I'm  going  to  do  the  up- 
stairs now." 

Vivian     was     momentarily     de- 


pressed, but  the  thought  of  spend- 
ing an  evening  out,  soon  re- 
vived her  spirits,  and  she  attacked 
the  mountain  of  dishes  and  pots  and 
pans  with  enthusiasm.  She  could 
hardly  wait  to  tell  Ken. 

That  evening  they  sat  down  to 
their  elaborate  dinner  with  hushed 
expectancy,  for  two  of  the  boys  were 
laboriously  bringing  Ken's  gift  down 
from  its  upstairs  hiding  place.  At 
last  they  arrived,  amid  suppressed 
giggles  and  sighs. 

Upon  its  presentation,  Ken  was 
rapturous.  "Say,  that  is  just  what 
I  have  wanted  all  year,  and  just  in 
time  for  our  camping  trip  next 
month,  too."  He  gave  Vivian  an 
affectionate  kiss,  and  the  children 
were  ecstatic.  Even  Laurie  smiled. 

"I  am  going  to  give  your  mother's 
gift  to  her  after  we  eat  dinner," 
laughed  Ken.  "It  is  so  beautiful  I 
am  afraid  she  would  be  too  excited 
to  eat." 

CO  the  delightful  anxiety  lasted  all 
through  the  dinner,  and  Laurie 
began  to  laugh  and  to  guess  with 
the  others.  Vivian  sat  misty-eyed 
through  the  whole  meal,  thankful 
for  her  husband  and  her  eight  love- 
ly children  —  even  loving  the  old 
house,  with  all  its  inconveniences 
tonight,  because  her  grandmother 
had  reared  her  children  here  —  be- 
cause it  had  known  so  much  love. 

Ken  made  a  great  ceremony  out 
of  her  gift  presentation  and  Vivian 
sat  down  in  her  armchair,  with  all 
the  children  circled  about  her  on 
the  floor.  It  was  beautifully 
wrapped,  and  had  the  little  enve- 
lope attached  that  Vivian  knew  so 
well.    She  opened  the  gift  first. 

Everyone  gasped  as  she  withdrew 


234 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


the  gleaming  necklace  from  its  vel- 
vet box. 

"It's  exquisite!"  exclaimed  Laurie, 
her  hands  clasped  together. 

Vivian's  heart  was  too  full  to  let 
her  speak  —  to  let  Ken  know  it  was 
too  expensive,  too  beautiful  for  her. 
And  how  she  loved  it.  She  reached 
out  to  squeeze  his  hand  and  he 
kissed  her.  Then,  carefully,  with 
trembling  fingers,  she  opened  the 
little  envelope.  She  began  to  read 
the  sixteenth  beautiful  sonnet  that 
Ken  had  written  to  her. 

"To  you,  beloved  .  .  .  ."  Vivian 
couldn't  read  it  aloud.  She  read  it 
through  quietly,  the  tears  blinding 
her.  The  younger  children  were 
still  admiring  the  necklace.  Only 
Laurie  stood  expectant,  longing  .... 

"Laurie,  put  this  card  away  — 
with  the  others.  There  is  a  little 
blue  box  tied  with  satin  ribbon  in 
the  bottom  drawer  of  my  vanity." 

Ken  looked  at  her,  strangely,  and 
then  with  understanding  warming 
in  his  eyes. 

"Thank  you,  darling,"  Vivian  said 
at  last. 

"Hurry  and  get  ready  for  our 
date,  Mama,"  he  whispered. 


Vivian  had  so  much  help  getting 
ready  she  wondered  if  she  would 
ever  be  dressed.  But,  at  last,  she  was, 
and  the  necklace  made  even  the  old 
black  dress  look  lovely.  As  Barbara 
hurried  downstairs  to  see  about  the 
baby,  Vivian  realized  that  she  had 
made  herself  into  more  of  a  drudge 
than  was  necessary.  They  love  to 
make  us  happy,  too,  if  we  will  let 
them,  she  thought,  remembering 
how  kind  Laurie  had  been,  how 
cheerful  the  others  about  Mommy's 
date. 

The  door  opened  and  closed 
quietly.  Laurie  stood  against  the 
bedroom  door,  tall  and  straight.  She 
cleared  her  throat,  and  Vivian 
turned  from  the  mirror. 

"I— I  read  them  all,  Mama.  I 
hope  you  don't  care." 

When  Vivian  smiled,  she  con- 
tinued, with  wonder  in  her  voice 
and  her  eyes  shining,  "A  poem  for 
every  year,  Mama.  Do  you  suppose 
anyone  will  ever  love  me  .  .  .  like 
that?" 

Vivian  reached  impulsively  for 
the  hand  of  her  growing-up  daugh- 
ter. They  both  knew  that  in  Lau- 
rie's heart  something  new  and 
beautiful  had  been  born. 


Springtime  QJinds  the   Cani/on 

Evelyn  Fjeldsted 

On  the  waiting  fields  still  lie 

The  graying,  tattered  sheets  of  snow, 

And  springtime  walks  between  the  shreds, 

Where  winter  slept  a  month  ago. 

Then  exultantly  spring  pirouettes 

Through  the  canyon's  still  domain, 

Spreading  counterpanes  of  green, 

Under  tinsel  nets  of  rain. 

Searching  there,  it  finds  new  melodies, 

Deep  in  solitude  for  themes 

To  play  on  keyboards,  improvised 

To  waken  earth  from  winter  dreams. 


A  Temple  Will  Be  Built 


Mabel  L.  Anderson 


UT  T  ERE  we  will  build  a  temple 

I    I    to  our  God"  —  those  words 

spoken    by   a    prophet    so 

long  ago,  came  solemnly  to  my  mind 

as  I  stood  on  the  sacred  ground  of 

Newchapel  in  Surrey,  England. 

The  one  "must"  on  my  trip  to 
the  British  Isles  had  been  to  see  the 
temple  site.  Following  the  direc- 
tions of  an  elder  at  the  Church 
headquarters  on  Nightingale  Lane 
in  London,  we  boarded  a  comfort- 
able British  coach  just  a  few  steps 
from  the  Church  door. 

In  planning  the  things  to  see  and 
the  places  to  go,  I  had  studied  maps 
of  every  county  and  part  of  Eng- 
land. But  how  colorless  a  road  map 
can  be!  Just  a  line  to  try  to  tell  of 
those  lovely  British  roads  that  amble 
through  the  countryside  as  though 
they,  too,  were  enjoying  the  delight- 
ful and  varied  scenery  through 
which  they  were  passing,  making  a 
turn  to  avoid  a  cottage  garden  or  to 
show  one  a  particularly  attractive 
view  of  rolling  pastures  and  sylvan 
glades;  just  a  dot  to  indicate  a  pic- 
turesque old  town  or  quaint  village, 
or  an  ancient  castle  or  the  spires  of 
a  grand  cathedral. 

A  few  minutes  ride  took  us 
through  some  of  the  busy  environs 
of  London,  then  out  into  the  peace- 
ful country,  with  its  soft  landscapes, 
having  a  pastoral  charm  of  its  own, 
historical  as  it  is  beautiful.  Through 
this  lovely  countryside  marched  the 
invaders  of  Britain  from  before 
Julius  Caesar's  time  up  to  the  time 
of  William  the  Conqueror  —  Ro- 
mans,  Danes,   and   Normans,   and 


the  whole  area  abounds  in  many 
well-preserved  monuments  of  those 
days. 

Not  quite  an  hour's  ride  brought 
us  to  the  crossroads  of  the  London- 
Lingfield  road,  where  we  stopped.  A 
few  steps  took  us  to  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  spots  it  has  been  my  privi- 
lege to  see.  Here,  in  this  unspoiled 
English  countryside,  the  cornerstone 
will  soon  be  laid  for  the  building  of 
the  first  temple  in  England  —  that 
"tight  little  island,"  as  Shakespeare 
said,  "bound  in  with  the  triumphant 
sea,"  that  has  furnished  so  many 
stalwarts  to  our  Church,  just  118 
years  after  the  gospel  was  first 
brought  there. 

A  little  pond  just  outside  the  high 
board  fence  first  attracted  my  eye 
and  my  camera.  Here,  among  pond 
lilies,  a  mother  duck  and  her  little 
ducklings  were  having  a  swim. 
Around  the  grassy  fringe  of  the 
pond  were  flowers  and  shrubs,  while 
in  the  background  were  magnificent 
trees  and  the  lichened  tile  roof  of 
the  mansion. 

A  gate  admitted  us  to  the  grounds 
of  the  estate  at  Newchapel.  It  was 
such  a  calm  and  lovely  spot.  First, 
the  manor  house  built  in  the  dig- 
nity of  Elizabethan  half-timbered 
style.  This  gracious  mansion,  set 
amid  rolling  acres  and  mellow  park- 
land, is  something  which  will  long 
remain  in  the  memory  of  those  of 
us  who  cherish  our  visit  there. 

Missionaries  stationed  at  New- 
chapel took  us  through  this  state- 
ly house,  with  its  richly  pan- 
eled   walls    and    parquetry    floors. 

Page  235 


236 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


Mabel  L.  Anderson 


NEWCHAPEL,  SURREY,  ENGLAND 
As  it  is  approached  from  the  road 


We  first  entered  a  large  hall  which 
had  a  beautiful  stairway  leading  to 
the  balcony  and  floors  above.  At 
one  side,  a  drawing  room  with  a 
small  gallery,  we  were  told,  would 
undoubtedly  be  the  chapel  for  the 
branch;  then  through  the  library, 
dining  rooms,  various  sitting  rooms, 
kitchens,  and  butlers'  pantries;  up- 
stairs to  the  many  bedrooms,  and 
bathrooms  (some  so  large  they  even 
had  fireplaces  in  them).  The  Old- 
World  charm  and  gracious  character 
of  this  house  made  me  think  of 
some  words  of  Charles  Lamb: 

I  do  not  know  a  pleasure  more  affecting 
than  to  range  at  will  over  the  deserted 
apartments  of  some  fine  old  family  man- 
sion. The  traces  of  extinct  grandeur 
admit  of  a  better  passion  than  envy,  and 
contemplations  on  the  great  and  good 
whom  we  fancy  in  succession  to  have  been 
its  inhabitants,  weave  for  us  illusions  in- 
compatible with  the  battles  of  modern 
occupancy. 


And  it  is  certainly  true  that  the 
storied  history  of  Britain  is  largely 
written  on  the  mellow  walls  of  its 
country  houses,  for  in  them  many 
important  events  have  taken  place; 
within  their  walls  have  gathered 
many  people  who  have  walked  the 
pages  of  history.  And,  as  I  wan- 
dered from  room  to  room,  I,  for 
one,  was  grateful  that  this  house 
would  be  preserved. 

pROM  the  windows  of  the  second 
and  third  floors  we  had  a  good 
view  of  the  lovely  grounds  that 
stretched  far  in  the  distance.  Thirty- 
four  acres,  we  were  told,  comprise 
the  estate.  Back  of  the  house  was  a 
large  carriage  house  now  being  used 
as  headquarters  of  the  English  gen- 
eological  department  of  the  Church. 
The  house  is  surrounded  by  ex- 
tensive and  venerable  lawns,  park- 
lands,  and  fine  trees,  orchards,  pad- 


A  TEMPLE  WILL  BE  BUILT 


237 


docks,  and  farms  in  the  distance. 
Glorious  masses  of  rhododendron  in 
shades  of  rose  and  purple  were 
breath-taking  in  their  beauty.  The 
rain  had  just  stopped,  and  the  shim- 
mering silk  of  the  leaves  was  such 
a  lush  and  verdant  green  it  seemed 
the  Master  Painter  must  have  just 
finished  the  painting.  Abundant, 
brilliant,  sweet  -  smelling  flowers 
made  the  air  heady  with  their  per- 
fume, and  gave  more  color  to  the 
scene.  Among  the  clipped  yew 
and  boxwood  hedges  we  wandered 
to  the  tennis  court,  near  which,  we 
were  told,  was  the  spot  which  had 
been  dedicated  for  the  building  of 
the  temple.  We  felt  we  were  in- 
deed walking  on  holy  ground.  The 
whole  place  gave  one  a  feeling  of 
peace  and  serenity  that  has  a  special 
appeal  to  those  who  live  in  this  age 
when  serenity  is  so  rare.  In  the 
quiet  walks  around  the  grounds  one 
could  indeed  feel  that  here  he  might 
really  "be  still  and  know  that  I  am 
God." 

Nowhere  else,  that  I  know  of,  is 
it  so  easy  to  obtain  the  illusion  of 
isolation  as  in  those  deep  cool  paths 


and  among  the  luxuriant  sea  of  foli- 
age of  that  tranquil  countryside, 
only  about  thirty  miles  from  Lon- 
don. Newchapel  is  in  the  southeast 
corner  of  Surrey,  near  to  the  pretty 
village  of  Lingfield,  and  just  a  few 
miles  from  the  busy  market  town 
of  East  Grinstead,  itself  a  blend  of 
the  old  and  new,  with  an  interesting 
history,  many  old  traditions,  and 
rich  in  seventeenth-century-tim- 
bered houses.  In  the  vicinity  are 
quaint  villages  and  modern  suburbs 
where  charming  cottages  flaunt  gay 
front  gardens,  typically  British. 
Across  this  region,  many  centuries 
ago,  there  existed  a  great  forest,  now 
gone  except  for  bits  of  it  remaining 
in  the  lovely  small  woods,  and  evi- 
dent in  the  stately  trees  seen  every- 
where. How  well  the  leaders  of 
our  Church  chose  the  location  to 
build  a  house  of  the  Lord! 

Next  time  I  go  to  England,  I  shall 
again  take  the  road  leading  south 
from  London  to  the  sea,  and  there 
at  Newchapel,  I  hope  to  thrill  at 
the  stately  spires  of  a  Latter-day 
Saint  temple  silhouetted  against  an 
English  sky. 


/low    Spring 


Dowthy  J.  Roberts 

Snow's  fraying  cerements  have  lost  their  strength; 
Now  spring  disturbs  the  linens  and  the  leveled  girth 
Of  land  revives  to  shrug  the  winter  from  its  length. 
Greens,  innumerable,  will  range  the  loosened  earth, 
Will  creep  or  burst  in  ray  or  tower,  crown 
Or  shock,  into  returning  sun.     Life  will  leap 
Forth  million-formed  to  cry  the  season  down 
That  marked  the  world  as  won  with  snow,  death,  sleep. 


Sixty    LJears  <J/igo 

Excerpts  From  the  Woman's  Exponent,  April  1,  and  April  15,  1896 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

A  GOLDEN  WEDDING:  At  the  foot  of  a  gigantic  mountain  lies  the  pastoral 
village  of  Pleasant  Grove,  which  now  numbers  among  its  inhabitants  two  of  our  aged 
pioneers.  One  of  these,  Brother  Hanson  Walker,  who  with  others  pioneered  the  way 
to  this  barren  waste  and  has  assisted  to  make  it  the  Utah  of  today,  celebrated  his  Golden 
Wedding  on  Friday,  April  10th.  His  children  and  his  children's  children  poured  in 
upon  him  and  his  good  wife  Elizabeth;  they  have  lived  happily  together  for  fifty 
years  ....  Among  the  guests  present  was  the  mother  of  Sister  Walker,  Sister  Margaret 
Foutz,  who  has  reached  the  advanced  age  of  ninety -five  years  and  is  still  quite  active. 

LEONA 

Leona,  look  forth  and  behold 

From  headland,  from  hillside  and  deep, 

The  day-king  surrenders  his  banners  of  gold 

And  twilight  advances  through  woodland  and  wold 

And  the  dews  are  beginning  to  weep  .... 

Leona,  good-by;  would  the  grief 

That  is  gathering  now,  ever  be 

Too  dark  for  your  faith,  you  will  long  for  relief, 

And  remember  the  journey,  though  lonesome  is  brief, 

O'er  lowland  and  river  to  me  .... 

— James  G.  Clark 

MINERVA  WHITE  SNOW:  The  news  of  the  unexpected  demise  of  Sister 
Minerva  White  Snow,  wife  of  Apostle  Erastus  Snow,  was  quite  a  shock  to  many  of  her 
friends  and  to  her  relatives  in  this  City.  Sister  Snow  died  April  1,  1896,  at  Manti,  where 
she  has  been  living  for  several  years  past,  having  been  called  there  at  the  time  of  the 
dedication  of  the  Manti  Temple,  and  has  been  laboring  therein  almost  continuously  .... 
Faithful  and  true  in  every  department  of  life,  a  loving  wife,  an  affectionate  mother,  a 
wise  counselor,  full  of  integrity  and  abounding  in  faith  and  good  works,  amiable,  tender, 
considerate  of  the  feelings  of  others,  and  full  of  charity  .... 

— Editorial 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  IN  OAKLEY,  SUMMIT  COUNTY:  Our  society  was  organ- 
ized June  10,  1895.  Our  president,  Sister  Eliza  West  is  very  energetic  and  persevering; 
her  assistants  and  all  the  members  seem  to  be  willing  to  do  all  in  their  power  to  carry 
the  work  along.  The  members  have  all  donated  liberally  and  are  storing  up  wheat  as 
we  were  counseled  to  do. 

—Ella  M.  Horton,  Ass't.  Sec. 

REPORT  FROM  THE  SANDWICH  ISLANDS:  Sister  Libbie  Noall,  who  re- 
turned last  fall  from  the  Sandwich  Islands,  gave  a  most  interesting  description  of  her 
labors  in  the  Relief  Society  among  the  native  sisters  on  those  islands.  The  first  Relief 
Society  organized  there  was  in  1875  ...  .  These  sisters  are  as  willing  to  make  sacri- 
fices as  we  are  at  home  in  Zion;  they  are  full  of  faith  and  zeal  in  their  religion,  and  are 
naturally  gifted  in  speaking.  They  learn  quickly  and  do  fancy  work  of  various  kinds. 
They  are  fond  of  their  meetings  and  will  walk  long  distances  to  attend  religious  serv- 
ices ....  — From  a  Report  of  the  General  Conference  of  Relief  Society 

Page  238 


Woman's  Sphere 


Ramona  W.  Cannon 


HPHE  League  of  Women  Voters, 
a  national  organization,  is  cur- 
rently stressing  in  its  local  organiza- 
tions the  preparation  of  women  to 
take  part  effectively  in  the  coming 
national  elections.  The  stated  pur- 
pose of  the  League,  which  was  or- 
ganized in  1920,  is  to  ''promote  po- 
litical responsibility  through  in- 
formed and  active  participation  of 
citizens  in  government." 

TUCRETIA  FERRE,  young  Lat- 
ter-day Saint  soprano  from  Salt 
Lake  City,  who  has  won  acclaim 
throughout  the  United  States  and 
in  many  European  cities,  in  Decem- 
ber 1955  sang  in  the  "Messiah"  pre- 
sented for  service  men  in  Augsburg, 
Germany. 

MADAME  SIMONE  COUS- 
TEAU  prefers  living  "with  ad- 
venture" —  and  her  husband,  Jac- 
ques-Yves, explorer  and  inventor,  on 
his  French  national  scientific  ship, 
"Calypso,"  to  being  a  Paris  social- 
ite. Nine  months  of  the  year  her 
life  is  "uncomfortable  and  acro- 
batic" in  their  close  quarters.  Some- 
times she  cooks  for  twenty-three 
men,  also  acting  as  purser,  nurse, 
and  assistant  winch-operator.  From 
the  "Calypso"  scientists  explore  the 
under-water  world,  its  marine  life, 
geology,  the  water  itself,  and  wrecks 
of  ships  sunk  before  the  time  of 
Christ. 


MABEL  LAW  ATKINSON  and 

her  daughter  Frances,  of  Day- 
ton, Idaho,  at  present  living  in  Salt 
Lake  City,  Utah,  tied  for  first-place 
honors  in  the  1955  short  story  con- 
test sponsored  by  the  National 
Thanksgiving  Association.  Repre- 
sentatives from  thirty  states  entered 
the  contest.  Both  Mrs.  Atkinson 
and  her  daughter  are  contributors 
to  The  Relief  Society  Magazine. 

CORNELIA    OTIS    SKINNER, 

gifted  American  actress,  in  a  re- 
cent interview,  emphasized  a  beau- 
tiful speaking  voice  as  necessary  to 
a  woman's  charm.  "A  wonderful 
and  pleasant  way  to  improve  your 
voice  is  to  read  aloud  and  listen  to 
yourself.  If  possible,  have  a  tape 
recording  made,  because  you  always 
sound  different  than  you  imagine." 

"DIRTHDAY  congratulations  are 
extended  to:  Mrs.  Rachel  Moore 
Wood,  one  hundred,  and  Mrs. 
Caroline  W.  Newman,  ninety-nine, 
both  of  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah;  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  Day,  Hunter,  Utah,  nine- 
ty-four; Mrs.  Ellen  King  Lyman, 
Logandale,  Nevada,  ninety-one;  and 
the  following  women  who  have 
reached  their  ninetieth  birthdays: 
Mrs.  Adeline  Maria  Bohn  Puffer, 
Beaver,  Utah;  Mrs.  Lavinia  Rigby 
Card,  Mrs.  Sarah  Winter  Bacon, 
and  Mrs.  Harriet  L.  Axton,  all  of 
Salt  Lake  City. 

Page  239 


EDITORIA 


VOL.   43 


APRIL  1956 


No.  4 


Jem 


oman  an 


EVEN  before  the  sunshine  of 
spring  touches  the  brown 
earth,  a  woman  may  plan  her 
garden.  Perhaps  on  paper  she  out- 
lines the  landscaping  —  here  a 
dwarf  cherry  tree  for  Maytime 
bloom;  there  by  the  pool,  the  heart- 
shaped  leaves  of  Valentine  ivy;  near 
the  doorstep  a  bed  of  blue  and  gold 
pansies.  Dear  to  the  heart  of  the 
homemaker  is  the  plot  of  ground, 
large  or  small,  which  she  may  beau- 
tify as  a  setting  for  her  house,  the 
place  where  she  may  see  the  first 
tender  green  of  grass  and  leaf,  the 
opening  of  flower  buds,  the  aureole 
of  bloom. 

For  the  well-being  of  the  body 
and  to  satisfy  the  Teachings  of  the 
spirit,  the  joy  of  planting,  the  se- 
renity of  waiting,  and  then  the  glad 
reward,  are  as  a  cycle  completed  in 
the  fulfillment  of  promise.  The 
dark  earth,  the  brown  seeds,  the 
dormant  bulbs,  the  blue  sky  and 
the  warm  sun,  the  dreaming  of 
summer  —  such  are  the  uses  of  a 
garden. 

Always  it  seems  a  miracle  to  see 
the  plot  of  earth  change  from  dark- 
ness to  the  glory  of  life  and  color. 
Many  women  have  found  such  cre- 
ative joy  in  gardening  that  they  re- 
gard its  satisfactions  as  an  integral 
part  of  homemaking. 

Mothers  have  found  that  children 
and    gardens   go   well   together   — 

Page  240 


d  crier 


en 


small  footsteps  following  while  the 
mother  plants  and  trims  and  tender- 
ly cares  for  the  seedlings  —  then  a 
garden  nook  for  the  child's  play- 
time, and  the  sheltered  place  where 
the  family  gathers  on  summer  eve- 
nings. So  a  garden  may  be  used  for 
binding  the  family  together  and 
uniting  them  in  the  love  of  the 
earth  and  the  home  which  have 
been  given  them  for  their  use  and 
their  delight. 

Our  gardens  planned  and  planted 
this  springtime  will  not  be  for  one 
season  alone,  but  they  will  be  for 
many  summers,  a  continuation  of 
our  love  and  care.  And  should  we 
find  it  necessary  to  leave  a  home 
and  a  garden,  should  our  families 
be  faced  with  the  need  of  making 
a  new  home,  memories  of  the  early 
garden  will  go  with  them  and  estab- 
lish again  the  family  pattern.  It 
will,  perhaps,  be  for  our  children, 
as  it  is  with  us,  to  rejoice  in  the 
memory  of  gardens. 

Who  among  us  has  not  heard  of 
the  heritage  of  plants  and  flowers? 
Recall,  perhaps,  a  pioneer  garden, 
someone  saying,  'This  lilac  bush 
was  planted  by  my  grandmother 
from  a  start  she  carried  westward 
from  Nauvoo."  Or,  in  a  sheltered 
place,  near  the  wall  of  an  adobe 
house  .  .  .  'This  spot  once  was  radi- 
ant with  pansies  grown  from  seed 
which    my   great-aunt   gathered   in 


EDITORIAL 


241 


the  gardens  of  Harlow,  when  she 
lived  in  England."  Or  visit  a  ranch 
home,  long  deserted,  and  someone 
will  say,  "Look,  this  spot  of  ground 
was  once  my  mother's  herb  garden. 
See  these  leaves  of  hardy  sage,  these 
horehound  plants  reseeding  them- 
selves year  after  year.  Always  I  see 
my  mother  in  this  place,  bending 
over  the  savory  herbs."  It  may  be 
someone  will  remark:  "This  is 
precious  ground,  for  here  my  cour- 
ageous mother-in-law  stood  on  her 
desert  homestead  and  turned  the 
water  into  furrows  where  pinks  and 
marigolds  and  zinnias  grew  in  an 
arid  place."  Or,  perhaps  in  a  high 
mountain  valley,  we  may   see  the 


yellow  roses  covering  the  fences 
with  their  bright  gold.  Through  the 
years  these  yellow  roses  have  been 
the  very  name  and  essence  of  beauty 
to  women  whose  lives  were  some- 
times bleak  as  canyon  winds. 

Our  gardens  are  not  for  today's 
joy  alone,  rather  they  are  a  con- 
tinuing treasure  —  they  are  for  deep 
remembrance  —  for  our  own  re- 
membering, and  for  the  heritage  of 
our  children,  for  the  lasting  love  of 
home,  when,  in  days  to  come,  we 
shall  speak  to  others  and  have  some 
influence  upon  their  thoughts 
through  the  long-remembered  frag- 
rance of  flowers  and  the  beholding 
of  the  shining  green  leaves  of  spring. 

-V.  P.  C. 


JLeone   (y.    (Jacobs  [Resigns  cfrom   the   (general  [Board 

f\N  February  15,  1956,  the  general  board  accepted,  with  great  reluctance, 
the  resignation  of  Leone  O.  Jacobs  from  the  general  board  after  eleven 
years  of  outstanding  service. 

At  the  time  of  her  appointment,  Sister  Jacobs  brought  to  the  general 
board  work  a  thorough  knowledge  of  Relief  Society  work  and  procedures 
gained  from  experience  in  a  foreign  mission  as  well  as  in  stakes  of  the 
Church. 

Sister  Jacobs'  work  on  the  general  board  has  been  versatile.  In  addi- 
tion to  serving  on  various  standing  committees,  she  has  written  the  visiting 
teacher  lessons  "Book  of  Mormon  Gems  of  Truth"  for  five  years.  These 
lessons  have  been  valuable  aids  for  more  righteous  living  among  the  sisters 
throughout  the  Church.  Also  of  particular  significance  has  been  the  work 
of  Sister  Jacobs  as  a  general  board  representative  on  community  programs 
in  all  of  which  she  has  shown  great  interest  and  taken  an  active  part. 
Throughout  the  years  of  service  to  the  general  board  Sister  Jacobs  has  been 
fully  supported  by  her  devoted  husband  and  children. 

Now  as  Sister  Jacobs  deems  it  wisdom  to  terminate  her  general  board 
work,  she  carries  with  her  the  love  and  respect  of  every  member  with  whom 
she  has  served,  who  pray  that  her  future  endeavors  may  also  prove  of  great 
satisfaction  and  joy  to  her. 


TlobitL 

TO  THE  FIELD 


ujrigham    Ljoung    University  JLeadership    vl/eek 


B 


RIGHAM  Young  University  Leadership  Week  will  be  held  June  18-22, 
1956,  on  the  Brigham  Young  University  Campus,  Provo,  Utah.  Relief 
Societv  members  have  found  the  leadership  classes  of  great  interest  and 
value  and  are  looking  forward  to  this  year's  program.  The  general  board 
wishes  to  call  to  the  attention  of  Relief  Society  members  the  following 
classes  which,  in  addition  to  many  others,  it  is  believed,  will  be  of  special 
interest  to  Relief  Society  women: 

Concluding  Messages  of  The  Book  of  Mormon 
"How"  for  the  Housewife 
Art  in  Everyday  Life 
Beautifying  the  Home  Grounds 
"Fashion  Fair  With  a  Forward  Flair" 
Wisdom  and  Beauty  Through  Literature 
An  Hour  With  Shakespeare 
Family  Business  Problems 
Getting  the  Most  From  Family  Life 
Teaching  Aids  Clinic 

Improvement  of  Teaching  III  (for  teachers  of  adults) 
Baton  Techniques 
Music  in  the  Church 

A  detailed  program  may  be  obtained  by  requesting  a  copy  of  "Widen- 
ing Horizons"  from  Brigham  Young  University  Extension  Division,  Provo, 
Utah. 

[Book  of  1 1 lonnon  LKeaaing  [Project 

DEPORT  forms  on  The  Book  of  Mormon  reading  project  will  be  sent 
to  stake  and  mission  Relief  Society  presidents  in  April  1956,  and  should 
be  returned  not  later  than  July  15,  1956.  The  general  board  wishes  to  en- 
courage all  sisters  to  do  the  reading  of  The  Book  of  Mormon  for  this  year, 
which  includes  the  book  of  Helaman  through  3  Nephi,  chapter  14.  In 
order  for  a  sister  to  receive  credit,  the  reading  must  have  been  done  during 
the  year  in  which  the  lessons  have  been  studied  in  Relief  Society. 
Page  242  ' 


NOTES  TO  THE  FIELD 


243 


ulymn    of  the     1 1 loath 


The  Church-wide  congregational  hymn  singing  project,  inaugurated 
by  the  Church  Music  Committee,  will  be  continued  during  the  coming 
year,  and  all  auxiliary  organizations  have  been  invited  to  participate.  The 
purpose  of  this  project  is  to  increase  the  hymn  repertoire  of  the  Church 
members  and  to  place  emphasis  on  the  message  of  the  hymns.  Stake  chor- 
isters and  organists  are  requested  to  give  assistance  at  union  meetings  to 
ward  choristers  and  organists  in  carrying  out  this  project. 

An  analysis  and  story  of  the  hymn  will  be  printed  each  month  in  the 
Church  Section  of  the  Dcseiet  News. 

Following  is  a  list  of  hymns  approved  for  the  twelve  months  July 
1956  to  June  1957: 


Month 

1956 

July 

August 

September 

October 

November 

December 

1Qo7 
January 

February 

March 
April 
May 
June 


Hymn 

They,  The  Builders  of  the  Nation — Alldredge-Durham 
Nearer,  Dear  Savior  to  Thee — Townscnd -Clay son 
Come,  We  That  Love  the  Lord — Watts-Williams 
The  Lord  Be  With  Us — Anon. — Cannon 
Father,  Thy  Children  to  Thee  Now  Raise — Stephens 
O  Little  Town  of  Bethlehem — Brooks-Redner 

Oh  Hark!  A  Glorious  Sound  Is  Heard — Robinson-Asper 

Jehovah,  Lord  of  Heaven  and  Earth — Holden 

He  Is  Risen — Alexander-Neandcr 

God  Loved  Us.  So  He  Sent  His  Son — KimbalhSchremer 


Number 

J73 

117 

25 
28 

43 
165 

*34 

83 
61 

178 


Great  King  of  Heaven,  Our  Hearts  We  Raise — Thomas-Robertson   53 
As  Swiftly  My  Days  Go  Out  on  the  Wing  5 


'Jjefore     /light-Shadows    cfall 


Maude  O.  Cook 

This  day  is  spent — tomorrow  may  not  be — 

We  meet  the  challenge  which  this  moment  brings, 

To  break  our  shackles,  conquer  and  be  free, 

And  turn  both  thought  and  deed  to  nobler  things  . 

This  moment  is  our  own,  heed,  then,  its  call, 

And  use  it  well  before  night-shadows  fall. 


Lancer— ^/l   i^heck-  Lip  and  a   Lheck 

Sandra  Munsell 

Supervisor,  Magazine  Advertising  Services,  American  Cancer  Society 

n^HIS  April,  the  American  Cancer  Society  will  intensify  its  year-round 
educational  program  by  urging  all  Americans  to  fight  cancer  with  a 
check-up  and  a  check  ...  a  check-up  to  save  their  own  lives,  a  check  to  save 
the  lives  of  their  fellows.  To  carry  on  its  nation-wide  program  of  scientific 
research,  professional  and  public  education,  and  service  to  patients,  the 
Society  seeks  to  raise  $26,000,000.  This  is  a  particularly  significant  figure. 
If  present  rates  continue,  26,000,000  Americans  now  alive  will  die  of  cancer. 
In  a  few  short  years  we've  seen  the  discovery  of  antibiotics,  new  wonder 
drugs  for  tuberculosis,  a  vaccine  for  polio.  We  will  see  the  conquest  of 
cancer,  too,  if  people  want  it  badly  enough.  Last  year  the  American  Cancer 
Society  was  unable  to  fill  requests  for  research  funds  totaling  almost 
$3,000,000.    The  reason— not  enough  money. 

Cancer  and  healthy  cells  seem  to  feed  on  different  kinds  of  "food." 
We  know  how  to  make  some  cancer  cells  die  by  starving  them.  Will  we 
starve  out  all  kinds  of  cancer  cells  one  day?  Onlv  more  work  and  research 
will  tell. 

Some  cancer  patients  develop  substances  that  fight  their  own  tumors. 
When  science  knows  more  about  antibodies,  we  may  have  a  new  cancer 
treatment.  Only  more  work  and  research  will  tell. 

Some  cancers  are  being  halted  by  atomic  materials.  Can  new  radio- 
active isotopes  affect  other  cancers  in  the  same  way?  Only  more  work  and 
research  will  tell. 

New  drugs  are  being  developed  that  fight  specific  kinds  of  cancer. 
Will  any  of  them  turn  out  to  be  cancer-killers?  Only  more  work  and  re- 
search will  tell. 

The  law  of  averages  says  that  cancer  will  kill  one  out  of  every  six 
Americans.  But  the  law  does  not  have  to  prevail.  You  can  help  break 
it  in  two  ways.  By  having  a  thorough  medical  checkup  every  year  .  .  .  and 
by  sending  a  contribution  to  your  unit  of  the  American  Cancer  Society 
or  to  Cancer,  c/o  your  town's  Postmaster. 

Fight  cancer  with  a  checkup  and  a  check. 


uieartsease 

Beuhh  lluish  SadJeir 


When  the  heart  is  rilled  with  grief — 
Plant  a  flower  or  rake  a  leaf; 
Heaven's  hope  is  centered  where 
Two  busy  hands  make  silent  prayer. 


Page  244 


Lesson  From  Letty 


Arlene  D.  Cloward 


DEAR  DIARY: 
Today  I  grew  up.  Oh, 
I'm  only  one  day  older  in 
time,  but  years  older  in  wisdom, 
and  it  all  happened  because  today 
was  my  Mother's  birthday.  I 
learned  my  lesson  from  Letty.  Early 
this  morning  no  one  could  have 
told  me  that  I  could  learn  anything 
from  my  little  eight-year-old  sister, 
as  we  sat  on  the  front  steps  planning 
what  to  get  for  our  Mother.  I  was 
so  deeply  engrossed  that  I  scarcely 
even  knew  that  she  was  there.  It 
was  a  very  beautiful  day,  with  the 
sky  all  clear  and  blue  and  the  sun 
glimmering  through  the  big  trees, 
making  lacy  patterns  on  the  dewy 
grass.  The  lawn  spray  sent  forth  a 
pleasant,  fresh  shower  of  water  and 
gave  the  earth  a  cool,  fragrant  odor 
as  it  had  after  a  rain,  and  a  colorful 
rainbow  sparkled  in  an  arch. 

Letty  looked  about  with  happy 
blue  eyes,  seeming  to  drink  in  the 
beauty  of  the  morning.  I  was  just 
a  little  resentful  that  it  should  be 
all  up  to  me  to  get  a  present  for 
Mother,  and  to  do  all  of  the  worry- 
ing—financially. Oh,  not  that  I 
didn't  want  to  give  her  the  finest 
things  in  the  world,  I  did,  and  that 
was  what  made  it  so  hard  on  my 
small  funds.  Finally  I  straightened 
up  and  smiled.    "I've  got  it!" 

"What?"  Letty  asked  eagerly. 
"Have  you  thought  of  what  we  can 
get  for  Mommie?" 

Suddenly  I  wanted  to  have  my 
present  from  me  alone.  "Yes,"  I 
snapped,  a  little  roughly.  Letty 
held  out  her  grimy  hand  with  its 
five  pennies.  "Here,  take  my  money 


too,  then.  So  it  can  be  from  both 
of  us." 

I  laughed.  "Goose!  That  won't 
even  pay  the  tax."  I  didn't  really 
want  to  be  cruel,  just  plain.  Well, 
Letty's  face  looked  as  white  as  if  I 
had  slapped  it,  and  I  had  to  hurry 
and  turn  away  before  I  changed  my 
mind  and  took  her  five  pennies  after 
all.  It  was  time  that  she  grew  up 
and  realized  what  it  was  like  to  have 
to  do  all  of  the  planning  as  I  had 
to  do.  Being  the  oldest  of  five,  this 
had  always  befallen  me  and,  actual- 
ly, I  loved  my  role,  and  was  feeling 
very  superior  for  my  fifteen  years. 

"When  I  was  your  age  I  got 
Mother  my  own  presents,"  I  said 
and  ran  quickly  into  the  house,  leav- 
ing a  very  crushed  and  unhappy  lit- 
tle girl.  As  I  dressed  to  go  into 
town  I  felt  perfectly  terrible,  and 
could  hardly  wait  to  go  back  out- 
side and  take  Letty's  five  pennies. 
She  had  been  so  sweet  and  happy, 
and  I  had  ruined  it  all  for  her. 
Quickly  I  slipped  into  the  new  dress 
Mother  had  made  for  me  and 
thought,  with  a  flood  of  love,  how 
lucky  we  all  were  to  have  someone 
like  her,  and  I  was  very  glad  that 
I  had  saved  my  baby-sitting  money 
so  that  I  could  buy  her  the  beautiful 
blue  dress  that  she  had  admired  in 
the  store.  It  would  be  just  perfect 
with  her  lovely,  silvery  hair. 

I  ran  down  the  stairs  and  heard 
Mother  and  Letty  talking  from  the 
front  porch.  Slipping  quietly  out, 
I  could  see  Letty's  little  rosy  face 
uplifted  and  beaming  and  her  eyes 
shining.  "See,  Mommie,  see  how 
the  water  makes  a  rainbow  and  the 

Page  24^ 


246 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


little  drops  of  water  look  like  big 
pearls  on  the  grass." 

Well,  I  thought,  she  certainly  re- 
covered quickly  from  her  hurt,  and 
it  made  me  feel  a  great  deal  better. 
I  should  have  known  that  nothing 
ever  worries  Letty  for  very  long,  and 
I  was  glad  that  it  didn't,  because 
Mother's  dark  eyes  were  smiling 
happily  and  she  was  gazing  at  the 
rainbow  as  if  she  had  never  seen 
one  before.  Some  of  the  tired  lines 
had  vanished,  and  she  looked  so 
lovely  and  serene  that  it  almost  took 
my  breath  away.  I  bent  and  kissed 
her  cheek.  ''Bye,  Mom,  I've  got 
to  go  into  town  for  awhile." 

Mother  nodded,  almost  absently, 
for  Letty  was  already  leading  her 
by  the  hand  to  where  the  first  vio- 
lets were  blooming  in  profusion 
along  the  white  fence,  chattering 
gaily  that  they  looked  almost  like 
velvet. 

I  walked  on  down  the  path, 
thinking  that  though  I  hadn't  been 
able  to  tell  Letty  I'd  love  to  include 
her  in  my  present,  I  could  take  her 
contribution  when  I  arrived  home. 
After  all,  there  was  very  little  that 
an  eight-year-old  could  do  before 
then. 

TT  was  a  nice  day  to  take  a  walk, 
and  a  cool  breeze  stirred  through 
my  hair.  When  I  reached  town  I 
bought  the  dress  happily,  thinking 
of  the  joy  that  it  would  bring  to 
Mother's  face,  and  then  I  had  to 
stop  in  at  Janie's  to  plan  our  party 
for  that  evening.  It  was  close  to 
noon  by  the  time  I  arrived  back 
home.  As  I  came  through  the  gate 
I  saw  Letty  on  her  hands  and  knees 
by  the  flower  bed,  carefully  weeding 
out  the  stray  grass  and  weeds,  leav- 


ing the  violets  in  a  bed  of  soft, 
brown  earth.  It  enhanced  their 
delicate  beauty  so  that  I  stopped  to 
gaze  at  them. 

Letty  didn't  look  up  but  con- 
tinued to  work  with  loving  gentle- 
ness, and  I  went  on  into  the  house 
and  hastily  hid  my  bundle  in  my 
room. 

After  lunch  I  had  to  hurry  back 
into  town  to  buv  the  things  for  our 
party,  and  this  time  I  left  a  little 
shamefaced,  for  Letty  was  happily 
preparing  to  send  Mother  off  on  a 
nice  walk— perhaps  even  to  the 
beauty  shop  to  have  her  hair  done, 
while  she  took  up  Mike,  the  baby, 
to  tend  him. 

'I'll  take  Mike  with  me,  Letty," 
I  volunteered,  but  she  just  hugged 
him  and  nestled  her  nose  against 
him  to  make  him  giggle.  "No.  I 
want  to  tend  him.  You  go  ahead 
and  go,  and,  Mommie,"  she  added, 
calling  after  Mother  as  she  went 
down  the  walk,  "take  just  as  long  as 
you  want."  Mother  beamed  back 
with  that  same  shining  look  in  her 
eyes,  as  if  she  were  still  seeing  a 
rainbow. 

The  house  was  quiet  when  I  re- 
turned and,  peeking  in  at  Mother's 
bedroom  door,  I  saw  Mike  curled 
up  fast  asleep  in  his  crib.  Letty  was 
bent  over  the  desk  in  the  living 
room,  laboriously  concentrating  on 
a  bowl  of  violets  before  her.  I 
slipped  up  behind  her  and  glanced 
over  her  shoulder  to  see  that  she 
was  very  painstakingly  trying  to 
copy  the  violets  on  a  piece  of  folded 
drawing  paper.  She  had  smeared 
the  lines  a  little  with  her  small, 
grubby  little  palm,  but  the  likeness 
was  there,  and  she  was  beginning  to 


LESSON  FROM  LETTY 


247 


color  the  violets  with  her  purple 
crayon. 

"Letty,  I  want  to  apologize.  I'd 
like  very  much  to  have  your  five 
pennies." 

Letty  didn't  look  up,  but  she 
grinned.  "Oh,  no,  Judy.  You  were 
right.  I  should  give  Mommie  my 
very  own  present  and  I'm  going  to. 
Thanks  anyway."  She  continued  to 
color  the  violets  earnestly,  trying  to 
deepen  the  purple  in  the  center, 
and  I  suddenly  felt  overwhelmingly 
humble. 

"May  I  see  the  inside,  honey?" 

Letty  opened  the  card  eagerly, 
and  I  read  the  little  verse  almost 
through  a  screen  of  tears,  not  know- 
ing why  for  sure  myself.  It  was  a 
simple  little  wish— perhaps  that  was 
the  beauty  of  it.  It  said  in  a  large 
but  carefully  printed  scrawl:  "Dear- 
est Mommie,  I  hope  that  your  birth- 
day is  as  happy  and  as  beautiful  as 

your  favrite  flower.  With  love,  Let- 
j.    » 

"Do  you  think  she'll  like  it 
Judy?"    Letty  asked  anxiously. 

I  put  my  arms  around  the  little 
shoulders  that  were  already  bending 
back  over  the  card.  "Darling,  she'll 
love  it." 

Letty  smiled,  her  own  quick  smile 
of  sunshine,  and  I  had  to  hurry  and 
turn  away  so  that  she  couldn't  see 
my  tears. 

As  soon  as  I  reached  the  hall  I 
picked  up  the  telephone  and  dialed 
Janie.  She  protested  when  I  told 
her  I  couldn't  make  it  to  our  party 
after  all,  that  it  was  very  important 
that  I  spend  the  evening  at  home, 
it  was  my  Mother's  birthday.  I  was 
insistent,  and,  finally,  she  laughed, 
"Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth  that's 
one  time  when  I  always  try  to  stay 
home,  too." 


T  TP  in  the  little  room  that  Letty 
and  I  shared  I  wrapped  the  gift 
I  had  for  Mother  with  almost  a 
feeling  of  shame.  It  wasn't  nearly 
good  enough  for  her,  not  nearly  so 
good  as  the  little  card  that  Letty 
was  coloring. 

That  evening  after  dinner  we 
handed  our  presents  to  Mother,  as 
she  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table.  Her 
hair  was  shiny  in  the  light  of  the 
candles  on  the  cake  that  Daddy  had 
brought  her,  and  she  looked  at 
everything  with  joy  and  happiness, 
but  I  knew  that  the  expression  I 
had  wanted  to  see  would  come 
when  Letty  made  her  presentation. 
She  thanked  me  with  a  smile  of 
delight,  but  I  was  quietly  waiting- 
waiting  for  the  best  moment  of  all. 

Letty  shyly  came  up  beside  Moth- 
er and  laid  the  card  in  her  hand  and 
brought  out  a  little  bunch  of  violets 
fastened  with  a  pretty  yellow  satin 
ribbon  to  a  lace  doilie  that  I  had 
seen  in  a  store  for  five  pennies.  She 
pinned  it  very  carefully  to  Mother's 
collar,  and  stepped  back,  beaming. 

Mother  read  the  verse,  and  the 
tears  welled  up  in  her  deep  eyes, 
but  she  smiled  with  that  joy  and 
pride  and  love  for  which  I  had  been 
waiting. 

Letty  had  given  Mother  the  very 
best  present  of  all.  She  had  given 
her  an  afternoon  of  leisure  and  en- 
joyment. She  had  given  her  the 
rainbow  and  the  beauty  of  the  bed 
of  violets,  but  above  all,  she  had 
given  of  herself— so  sweetly  and  so 
unconsciously  in  her  little  card  of 
love. 

So  you  see,  dear  Diary,  I  learned 
a  lesson  from  Letty  today.  It  isn't 
how  much  you  give  nor  how  much 
it  cost,  but  what  you  give  of  your- 
self. 


cJypical   ujrtttsh  Lrieapes 

Submitted  by  Ehine  Reiser 

Irish  Vegetable  Tartlets 

lA    lb.  short  pastry  (pie  crust  dough)  1  oz.  grated  cheese 

salt  and  pepper  young  carrots  (as  desired) 

1  cup  shelled  young  peas  Irish  potatoes  (as  desired) 

yolk  of  1  egg  Vz   pint  white  sauce 

1  tbsp.  lemon  juice 

Time:  About  30  minutes.    Temperature  for  pastry:  42  5  °  F.    Serves  4. 

Scrape  young  carrots  and  dice  enough  to  fill  a  breakfast  cup,  and  the  same  quantity 
of  new  Irish  potatoes.  Boil  these  and  the  peas  separately  until  done.  Roll  out  the 
pastry,  sprinkle  it  with  very  finely  grated  cheese.  Fold  and  roll  out  again.  Cover  the 
outsides  of  well-greased  patty  pans  with  the  dough  and  bake  at  42  5  °  F. 

Make  Vi  pint  of  ordinary  white  sauce,  season  it  well  with  salt  and  pepper,  stir  in 
the  beaten  yolk  of  an  egg  and  stir  over  very  gentle  heat  for  three  minutes.  Then  add  the 
lemon  juice. 

See  that  cooked  vegetables  are  well  drained,  and  mix  them  with  this  sauce. 

Slip  the  tins  out  of  the  cooked  pastry  cases,  fill  them  with  the  vegetables  and 
serve  very  hot. 

Welsh  Rarebit 

6  oz.  cheese  V&   tsp.  salt  and  half  that  of  pepper 

Vs   tsp.  mustard  2  tbsp.  cream  or  milk 

1  oz.  butter  or  margarine  4  slices  hot  buttered  toast 

Time:  5  to  10  minutes.    Temperature:  low.    Serves  4. 

Put  the  butter  in  a  small  saucepan  and  when  it  has  melted  mix  with  it  the  pepper, 
salt,  and  mustard,  the  cream,  and  finely  grated  cheese.  Stir  over  very  gentle  heat  until 
it  is  a  smooth  mixture,  but  do  not  let  it  boil.  Spread  the  mixture  thickly  on  the  toast 
and  serve  at  once,  or  brown  under  a  grill  if  preferred. 

Suet  Pudding 

XA   lb.  suet  pinch  of  salt 

Vz   lb.  flour  1   tsp.  baking  powder 

Vz   pint  milk  or  water  Vz    oz.  margarine  or  dripping 

Time:  3  hours.    Temperature:  moderate,  3500.    Serves  4. 

Shred  the  suet  very  finely.  Sift  the  flour  with  the  baking  powder  and  add  the  suet. 
Mix  to  a  rather  soft  dough  with  milk  or  water.  Turn  it  into  well-greased  basin,  cover 
with  waxed  paper,  and  steam  for  three  hours. 

Inexpensive  Christmas  Pudding 

Vz  lb.  breadcrumbs 

Vz  lb.  raisins 

2  oz.  candied  peel 

6  oz.  molasses 

2  eggs 

1  oz.  dripping  or  margarine 

Time:  8  hours.    Temperature:  moderate,  3500  F.    Serves  8  to  10. 

Grate  the  suet  finely.     Mix  the  flour  with  the  baking  powder  and  spice  and  sift 

Page  248 


Vz 

lb. 

flour 

Vz 

lb. 

suet 

Vz 

lb. 

currants 

1 
1 
1 

tsp.  mixed 
tsp.  baking 
tbsp.  milk 

spice 
powder 

TYPICAL  BRITISH  RECIPES  249 

them.  Cut  raisins  finely.  Slice  or  grate  peel.  Add  fruit  and  suet  to  the  flour  and  mix 
thoroughly.  Whisk  the  eggs  well,  then  beat  them  into  the  other  ingredients.  Warm 
the  molasses,  add  the  milk  to  it  and  beat  this  in.  When  evenly  mixed,  turn  into  well- 
greased  bowl,  cover  with  waxed  paper,  then  with  a  cloth  and  boil  for  eight  hours.  Store 
in  a  cool,  dry  place,  with  plenty  of  air. 


Scottish  Scones 

iVz   c.  flour  i  tbsp.  sugar 

2       tsp.  baking  powder  2  eggs 

buttermilk  to  mix 

Time:  about  10  minutes.  Temperature:  hot,  4000  F. 

Mix  the  sugar,  baking  powder,  and  flour  together,  add  the  beaten  eggs,  and,  by 
degrees,  enough  buttermilk  (about  1  Vi  cups)  to  make  a  thin  batter.  It  must  be  care- 
fully mixed,  so  that  it  is  free  from  lumps.  Drop  the  batter  a  little  at  a  time  on  a 
griddle,  cook  for  about  five  minutes,  turning  them  when  ready.  These  scones  are  eaten 
piping  hot  with  butter,  and  honey  if  desired. 

Mint  Jelly 
(To  serve  with  lamb) 

4  lb.  sharp  flavored  cooking  apples 
1   lb.  preserving  sugar  to  every  pint  of  juice 
12  good  sprays  mint 

Time:  about  1  hour.    Temperature:  moderate,  3500  F. 

Wash  the  apples  and  cut  them  in  small  pieces,  but  do  not  peel  or  core  them.  Put 
them  in  a  stewpan  with  enough  water  to  cover  and  simmer  until  they  are  quite  soft. 
Do  not  stir  them,  for  to  look  nice  this  jelly  should  be  very  clear.  When  soft,  turn  in- 
to a  sieve  to  drain  and  leave  until  they  have  ceased  to  drip.  Then  put  the  juice  into  a 
stewpan.  Bruise  the  mint  and  add  it,  stalks  as  well  as  leaves.  Simmer  for  ten  min- 
utes. Then  strain  the  juice,  measure  it,  and  put  it  into  a  preserving  pan  with  the  sugar, 
and  boil  until  it  jellies  when  tested.  Add  a  few  drops  of  green  coloring,  but  be  careful 
not  to  overdo  it;  it  should  be  a  pale  green.  Remove  the  excess  foam  which  has  boiled 
to  the  top.    Pour  into  small,  dry  pots  and  cover  when  cold. 

Green  Tomato  Chutney 

2  lb.  green  tomatoes  1  lb.  brown  sugar 

2  lb.  green  apples  Vz  lb.  small  raisins 

Vz   oz.  whole  ginger  6  red  chili  peppers 

2  oz.  garlic  1  pint  vinegar 

Time:  about  1  hour.    Temperature:  moderate,  3500  F. 

Quarter  the  tomatoes.  Peel  and  core  the  apples  and  cut  them  in  pieces;  peel  the 
garlic.  Mix  these  ingredients  together  and  put  them  through  a  grinder.  Put  the  mix- 
ture into  a  preserving  pan;  add  the  sugar,  raisins,  chili,  peppers,  vinegar  and  the  ginger 
tied  in  a  small  bag  of  muslin.  Bring  slowly  to  the  boil,  then  simmer  until  thick  and 
soft.  Remove  the  ginger  and  squeeze  out  as  much  juice  as  possible.  Pour  into  hot, 
dry  jars  and  cover  with  paraffin. 


Josef  Muench 


GERANIUMS 


Kyld-QJaskioned  CJ  lowers  in    lliodem   (gardens 

Dorthea  N.  Newbold 
Garden  Editor,  Deseiet  News  and  Telegram 


WHETHER  you  live  in  an 
apartment,  in  a  house  on 
a  city  lot,  or  whether  your 
home  is  located  on  a  farm  or  ranch, 
you  can  have  a  garden.  Gardening 
may  be  practiced  on  a  large  scale 
with  hired  help,  or  on  a  much 
smaller  scale  by  caring  for  a  few 
plants  on  a  window  sill.  Garden- 
ing will  bring  pleasure  and  relaxa- 

Page  250 


tion  to  the  gardener,  for  the  contact 
with  growing  plants  reawakens  our 
hope  and  faith  in  the  future.  Work- 
ing with  soil  and  seeds  brings  a 
serenity  into  our  busy  lives. 

Our  grandmothers  must  have 
realized  and  enjoyed  the  healing  in- 
fluence when  working  with  growing 
plants.  Though  their  cabins  were 
located    many    hundreds    of    miles 


OLD-FASHIONED  FLOWERS 


251 


from  cities,  and  possibly  set  down 
in  the  middle  of  the  desert,  the 
pioneer  woman  struggled  to  have 
her  own  garden.  She  not  only 
raised  vegetables  to  vary  the  daily 
meals  she  prepared,  but  she  also 
cultivated  annual  and  perennial 
flowers  to  satisfy  her  craving  for 
beauty.  Who  could  imagine  a  cab- 
in without  a  row  of  geraniums  on 
the  window  sills? 

Geraniums 

Usually  those  pioneer  women 
had  two  types  of  geraniums  —  the 
type  which  we  know  as  the  zonal 
geraniums,  and  the  scented  gerani- 
ums. Generally  the  zonal  geraniums 
were  propagated  by  slips  handed 
from  one  neighbor  to  another,  root- 
ed in  a  bit  of  soil,  or  it  might  be 
that  one  was  fortunate  enough  to 
secure  a  few  seeds  and  start  them 
into  growth.  Every  plant  that  grew 
would  produce  a  different  colored 
flower  —  and  weren't  those  women 
delighted  if  they  were  so  fortunate 
as  to  get  an  apple-blossom  pink,  or 
a  rose  pink! 

While  the  scented  geraniums 
were  easy  to  grow  from  slips,  the 
blooms  were  not  pretty  —  but  they 
were  a  desirable  house  plant  because 
their  foliage  was  aromatic.  At  jelly- 
making  time,  the  leaves  were 
picked,  washed  carefully,  and  one 
leaf  was  placed  in  the  bottom  of 
each  jelly  glass.  Hot  jelly  poured 
over  them  would  bring  out  the 
aromatic  oils  and  would  give  the 
jelly  an  enticing  flavor. 

Leaves  of  the  scented  geraniums 
and  of  lavender  were  gathered,  and 
dried,  and  spread  between  the 
household  linens.  Often  tiny  sa- 
chet bags  were  made  for  the  same 


purpose.  One  wonders  just  what 
those  homemakers  would  say  if 
they  could  have  their  choice  from 
among  the  more  than  forty  va- 
rieties of  scented  geraniums  that 
are  on  the  markets  today. 

Zinnias 

The  zinnias  that  our  grandmoth- 
ers raised  were  not  exactly  spec- 
tacular garden  subjects.  Zinnias 
have  been  greatly  improved  by 
plant  hybridizers,  and,  in  the  pro- 
cess, have  traveled  around  the 
world. 

Zinnias  are  natives  of  Mexico. 
Johann  Gottfried  Zinn,  a  German 
botanist  and  Doctor  of  Medicine, 
found  them  in  the  hills  of  Mexico 
in  1757.  Seeds  were  gathered  and 
taken  back  to  Europe,  and  were 
grown  in  just  a  few  gardens.     The 


■*v 


V 


Dorthea    Newbold 


SALMON   BEAUTY   PEONY 

As  seen  in  the  Luzon  Crosby  gardens, 
Orem,  Utah 


252 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


Dorthea  Newbold 


SHAGGY  CACTUS-FLOWERED  ZINNIAS 


plants  were  rather  weedy-looking 
things,  blooms  were  a  single  row  of 
petals  of  a  magenta-purple  color 
with  a  cone-like  center. 

In  Oude,  India,  in  about  1853, 
the  first  "break"  in  zinnias  occur- 
red. A  gardener  there  found  the 
first  double  flower.  Seeds  were 
gathered  and  some  were  sent  to 
Paris,  where,  in  1856,  just  one  hun- 
dred years  ago,  the  first  double 
zinnias  were  exhibited.  In  1861, 
zinnias,  double  and  two  and  one- 
half  inches  in  diameter  were  adver- 
tised in  an  English  gardening  cata- 
log. The  next  move  was  to  the 
North  American  Continent.  Here, 
plant  hybridizers  have  continued 
their  work  on  zinnias  until  now  we 
have  them  in  a  rainbow  of  colors, 
and  in  just  about  every  size  from 
the  tiny  ones  an  inch  in  diameter, 


to  huge  ones  that  measure  six  inch- 
es across.  Fabulous,  spectacular, 
superior,  dazzling  —  these  words 
are  necessary  to  use  to  describe  the 
new  beauties. 

Hardy  Roses 

As  civilization  made  the  western 
march,  the  women  found  that  some 
types  of  flowers  could  endure  the 
long  trip  and  would  soon  put  down 
roots  in  the  new  home.  Harrison's 
yellow  rose,  an  easy  to  grow  June- 
blooming  rose,  is  to  be  found  in 
every  section  of  our  great  country. 
It  could  and  does  endure  the  ex- 
tremes of  high  or  low  altitudes, 
alkali  or  acid  soil,  extreme  heat  or 
cold. 

The  moss  roses,  which  every  pio- 
neer woman  longed  to  have  in  her 
garden,  have   now  become   choice 


OLD-FASHIONED  FLOWERS 


253 


items  in  a  collector's  garden.  It 
is  quite  the  fashion  to  grow  the 
old-fashioned  roses.  Some  have  a 
garden  filled  with  the  older  types, 
others  use  many  of  the  new  hybrid 
tea  roses,  and  then  plant  a  few  of 
the  older  kinds  for  background. 
But,  wherever  they  are  found  grow- 
ing, they  put  on  an  annual  display 
in  June  —  and  they  earn  their  spot 
in  the  garden. 

Lilacs 

Lilacs  and  peonies,  snowballs  and 
sweet  Williams,  "pinks"  and  holly- 
hocks were  also  found  in  those 
gardens  of  long  ago. 

Lilacs,  either  white  or  purple, 
with  their  wonderful  fragrance, 
could  be  set  out  in  any  type  of  soil 
or  climate  and  would  become  per- 
fectly happy  and  thriving  plants. 
Today,  there  are  hundreds  of  va- 
rieties for  us  to  select  from,  and 
they,  too,  are  just  as  easy  to  grow 
as  was  the  old-type  lilac  vulgaris. 


Peonies 

The  varieties  of  peonies  number 
well  into  the  hundreds  today,  and 
fortunate  was  the  pioneer  gardener 
who  had  a  start  of  the  old  "Piney." 
Many  of  those  plants,  set  out  long 
years  ago,  are  still  growing  and 
blooming,  for  peonies  are  just  as 
rugged  as  were  some  of  the  garden- 
ers who  planted  them.  Well-grown 
plants  of  the  newest  varieties  will 
attain  four  feet  in  height  —  and 
almost  that  in  diameter,  while 
blooms  will  be  ten  to  twelve  inches 
across. 

Our  grandmothers  were  able  to 
have  gardens  with  the  types  of 
flowers  that  were  available  to  them. 
Today,  with  a  wide  selection  of 
plants,  and  hundreds  of  different 
varieties  where  there  used  to  be  but 
one,  we  should  really  have  wonder- 
ful gardens  —  yes,  and  we  should 
have  a  wonderful  time  while  we  are 
gardening. 


LKememver  cJodi 


ay 


Daphne  Jemmett 

When  we  are  caught  in  life's  swift  stream- 
No  turning  back  to  drift  or  dream, 

When  different  paths  our  feet  will  find — 
And  miss  the  ones  we've  left  behind, 

I'll  hold  this  day  fast  in  my  heart 
To  light  the  years  when  we're  apart. 

I'll  see  the  hills  across  the  sea — 

The  gray  gulls  dip  —  the  winds  blow  free, 


The  white  sails  fill  before  the  breeze; 
I'll  warm  my  heart  from  days  like  these. 


Qjiie  [Relief  Society    illagazine  -  -     Jx    TTiessenger 


Emily  C.  PoIJei 

Magazine  Representative,  Emigration  Stake,  Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

[Talk  Presented  in  the  Magazine  Department  Meeting  at  the  Annual  General  Relief 
Society  Conference,  September  29,  1955] 


IN  speaking  to  you  today,  dear 
sisters,  I  am  reminded  of  the 
words  of  a  famous  trial  lawyer 
who  was  asked  to  explain  his  suc- 
cess with  juries.  He  replied,  "First, 
I  tell  them  what  I  am  going  to  tell 
them,  then  I  tell  them,  and  then 
I  tell  them  what  I  have  told  them." 
Such  an  approach  should  sell  The 
Relief  Society  Magazine. 

Each  one  of  us  is  here  today  be- 
cause of  a  calling  to  serve  in  our 
Church,  and  I,  for  one,  am  very 
grateful  for  this  privilege  of  being 
a  stake  Magazine  representative.  I 
had  just  been  released  from  being 
a  ward  president  when  I  was  asked 
to  be  the  Magazine  representative 
on  the  stake  board. 

At  the  first  board  meeting  I  at- 
tended, I  noticed  that  I  was  made 
very  welcome,  but,  really,  the  other 
departments  had  much  to  discuss 
and  took  the  attention  of  the  presi- 
dent. I  knew  then  that  this  was 
really  a  challenging  position  and  it 
was  up  to  me  to  earn  all  of  the  re- 
spect I  could  for  our  Magazine  de- 
partment. My  former  ward  Maga- 
zine representative  encouraged  me 
by  telling  me  how  much  I  had  as- 
sisted her.  She  said  every  oppor- 
tunity I  had,  I  had  been  enthus- 
iastic about  the  Magazine  being 
brought  to  the  attention  of  the 
members.  She  reminded  me  that 
after  I  had  made  my  visits  to  new 
members  or  any  inactive  members, 

Page  254 


I  would  call  and  report  to  her,  giv- 
ing her  information  that  would  help 
her  in  selling  the  Magazine  to  them, 
such  as  hobbies,  interests,  and  any 
talents  the  prospects  might  possess. 

Effective  Selling  by  Visual  Aids 

Now,  I  know  that  this  Relief  So- 
ciety Magazine  selling  and  reselling 
is  a  tremendous  job,  and  I  am  doing 
everything  in  my  power  to  help  my 
ward  representatives  so  that  they 
can  do  effective  selling  all  twelve 
months  of  the  year.  Because  of  our 
inexperience,  we  must  study  selling 
techniques  and  present  them  at 
union  meeting.  A  thousand  words 
will  not  make  us  understand  as  will 
one  picture.  The  optic  nerve  which 
carries  impressions  from  the  eye  to 
the  brain  is  eight  times  as  large  as 
the  auditory  nerve  which  carries  im- 
pressions from  the  ear  to  the  brain. 
The  power  of  concentration  is  very 
short,  and  if  we  have  attractive 
posters  around  the  Relief  Society 
room,  when  the  mind  wanders,  as 
it  sometimes  does  even  in  the  best 
of  us,  these  posters  will  attract  at- 
tention and  suggest  a  worthwhile 
thought.  Never  use  very  many 
posters  at  one  time,  as  too  many  are 
confusing.  All  these  posters  we 
make  could  be  made  by  the  ward 
representatives  in  union  meeting 
and  then  used  interchangeably  in 
the  stake.  Other  suggestive  ways  of 
mentioning  the  Magazine  are  writ- 


THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— "A  MESSENGER' 


255 


ing  poems  and  themes  of  lessons  on 
the  blackboard.  Bulletin  boards  can 
be  used  or  even  placing  informa- 
tion in  a  ward  news  letter  helps. 

Aids  in  Selling 

In  our  stake  we  have  used  two 
letters  which  are  mailed  to  the 
homes,  one  to  appeal  to  the  new 
mothers,  and  the  other  to  the  work- 
ing mothers.  We  also  collect  a 
good  supply  of  old  copies  of  the 
Magazine  and  send  one  out  to  a 
nonsubscriber;  two  or  three  days 
later,  we  follow  up  with  a  visit. 

Another  tool  we  use  in  selling 
those  whom  we  contact  is  to  carry 
with  us  a  loose-leaf  notebook  on  our 
calls,  with  the  twelve  Magazine  cov- 
ers and  indexes  enclosed  in  cello- 
phane folders.  Also,  we  are  watch- 
ful for  suggestions  to  be  gained 
through  other  advertising,  such  as 
from  bus  ads,  letters,  signboards, 
and  magazines. 

Promotional  Work 

First,  remember  to  work  closely 
with  the  stake  Relief  Society  presi- 
dency; second,  begin  the  fall  season 
with  great  enthusiasm;  third,  out- 
line a  program  for  the  coming  year. 
Before  starting  the  fall  season,  the 
stake  Magazine  representative,  with 
the  approval  of  the  stake  Relief  So- 
ciety presidency,  might  invite  all 
the  ward  representatives,  with  their 
ward  presidents,  to  a  special  meet- 
ing or  social  and  there  give  definite 
instructions  and  exchange  ideas, 
making  sure  that  each  representative 
realizes  the  full  responsibility  of  her 
duties.  Then  the  first  union  meet- 
ing could  be  used  as  a  workshop  to 
get  ready  for  the  beginning  of  the 
October  meetings.     It  is  advisable 


to  use  discretion  in  promotional 
work,  giving  special  emphasis  to  the 
Magazine  in  a  regular  Relief  Society 
meeting  about  three  times  a  year, 
as  highlights. 

Recognition  of  Magazine 
Representatives 

The  January  work  meeting  day 
might  be  an  excellent  occasion  for 
recognizing  the  ward  Magazine  rep- 
resentatives. The  entire  program 
could  be  planned  around  various 
aspects  of  the  Magazine,  its  special 
features  and  its  departments.  The 
luncheon  tables  might  be  decorated 
with  pictures  or  motifs  taken  from 
the  Magazine.  The  favors,  also, 
could  be  worked  out  to  represent 
the  versatility  and  the  usefulness  of 
the  various  sections  of  the  Maga- 
zine. Some  suggestions  for  season- 
al parties,  which  might  be  applied 
to  a  Magazine  theme,  are  given  in 
the  article  "A  Party  That's  Differ- 
ent" (Relief  Society  Magazine,  Feb- 
ruary 1953,  page  101). 

At  one  of  the  spring  union  meet- 
ings, the  stake  president  could  ac- 
knowledge the  stake  Magazine  rep- 
resentative for  her  accomplishments, 
then,  in  turn,  the  stake  Magazine 
representative  could  express  her 
gratitude  for  the  support  and  suc- 
cess the  ward  Magazine  representa- 
tives achieved.  Here  is  an  oppor- 
tunity for  the  ward  sisters  to  re- 
spond and  give  testimonies  of  their 
callings. 

Using  the  Magazine  As  a  Theme 

For  the  Anniversary  observance, 
or  for  the  closing  social  in  the 
spring,  the  theme  of  the  party  could 
well  be  planned  with  the  Magazine 
as  the  center  of  interest,  since  its 


256 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


contents  embody  all  phases  of  Re- 
lief Society  work,  as  well  as  the  in- 
terests and  hobbies  of  women  in 
their  homes.  The  November  1953 
Magazine  lists  a  large  number  of  ex- 
cellent programs,  plays,  and  pag- 
eants which  may  be  secured  from 
the  office  of  the  general  board  for 
fifteen  cents  each.  (See  pages  745- 
749.)  The  series  "Adventures  in 
Glass/'  by  Alberta  H.  Christensen, 
presented  in  the  Magazine  during 
1952  and  1953  contains  a  wealth  of 
material  which  might  well  serve  as 


a  theme  for  a  most  enjoyable  and 
instructive  luncheon  or  other  pro- 
gram. 

Repetition  of  the  words  Relief 
Society  Magazine  will  forever  make 
us  conscious  of  its  worth.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  it  is  the  mouthpiece  of 
Relief  Society,  and,  if  I  will  study 
the  words  therein,  it  will  give  me 
knowledge  and  understanding  to 
rear  my  family,  and  my  family  will 
receive  inspiration  and  knowledge 
from  its  contents. 


Crier  C^tft 

DeIJa  Adams  Leitner 

She  took  the  odds  and  ends  of  things 

That  others  throw  away, 
And  by  her  alchemy  of  skill 

She  fashioned  them  till  they 
Were  something  useful,  something  bright, 

From  counterpane  to  toy; 
Creative  knack,  a  talent  used 

To  share  a  wealth  of  joy. 

And  not  alone  material, 

But  time  she  valued,  too; 
The  moments  some  might  waste  she  used 

And  from  them  something  new 
Of  service,  comfort,  help  came  forth; 

And  so  her  life  became 
A  fountainhead  of  happiness 

And  many  blessed  her  name. 


D 


cJrouvte 

Celia  Luce 

OES   trouble  bring  blessings   with   it?     The   argument  has   raged   all    down    the 
centuries. 


Yet  there  is  surely  one  blessing  that  trouble  brings.  It  puts  small  annoyances 
into  their  proper  place,  far  into  the  background,  and  gives  one  a  sense  of  proportion. 
It  teaches  one  the  singing  happiness  of  just  an  ordinary  trouble-free  day,  a  day  with 
one's  husband  and  children  near  and  well,  and  a  small  part  of  the  world's  work  to  do. 

A  day  free  of  great  trouble  is  a  gem  to  be  turned  slowly  in  the  mind  so  that  its 
every  sparkle  is  savored  and  brings  the  deep,  glorious  satisfaction  it  should. 


ibtia  LKaadau  JLewts  [Pieces  slutlts  for  aiapptness 

T^LLA  Randall  Lewis,  eighty-nine  years  old,  of  Tempe,  Arizona,  pieces  quilts  that  bring 
*-*  happiness  to  her  and  joy  and  comfort  to  those  who  are  privileged  to  have  the 
beautiful  quilts  in  their  homes.  Many  quilts  pieced  and  quilted  by  Sister  Lewis  have 
been  donated  to  the  Relief  Society,  and  she  has  worked  on  hundreds  of  others  in 
company  with  her  sisters  in  Relief  Society  meetings.  "Busy  fingers  make  happy  hearts," 
is  a  philosophy  of  life  that  has  meant  much  to  Sister  Lewis,  for  even  when  she  is  bed- 
fast, her  fingers  can  still  ply  the  needle  and  her  stitches  are  small  and  even  —  measured 
in  beauty. 

Sister  Lewis  is  an  expert  at  hand  and  machine  sewing,  and  at  one  time  she  owned 
a  loom  and  wove  many  beautiful  rugs.  She  has  served  for  many  years  in  various  official 
capacities  in  Relief  Society,  contributing  much  time  and  effort  towards  the  success  of 
the  work  meeting  program.  She  has  five  children,  fourteen  grandchildren,  and  twenty- 
one  great-grandchildren. 


Clear  Us  a  uiabit 

Anne  S.  W.  Gould 

Tj^EAR  destroys  most  people's  happiness.  Away  with  fear,  it  is  your  worst  enemy. 
*  Don't  entertain  it,  put  in  its  place  courage,  hope,  and  love.  Fear  really  is  a  habit 
and  a  foolish  one.    Emerson  said,  "Never  set  sail  to  a  fear." 


Page  257 


The  Day  Before  the  Wedding 


Dorothy  Boys  Kilian 


AT  four  o'clock  Janie  Marston 
adjusted  the  last  pair  of 
flowered  chintz  draperies  on 
their  rod,  stepped  down  oft  the  lad- 
der and  sighed  with  satisfaction.  It 
had  been  a  frantically  full  day,  the 
one  before  her  wedding,  but  what 
fun  —  arranging  everything  just  the 
way  she  wanted  it  in  this  first  home 
of  her  very  own. 

Hers  and  Dean's,  she  amended 
warmly  as  she  heard  a  car  turn  into 
the  drive  outside.  This  is  the  way 
it  would  be,  always  and  forever, 
after  tomorrow  —  listening  for  his 
coming  in  the  evening,  running  to 
greet  her  husband.  Starry-eyed, 
Janie  forgot  how  tired  she  was,  as 
she  hurried  eagerly  to  the  back  door. 

Looking  down  the  steps,  she 
stared  in  amazement  at  the  big, 
orange  crate-filled  trailer  attached 
on  behind  the  familiar  blue  con- 
vertible. 

"Hi,  darling,"  Dean  called  up  as 
he  stepped  out  of  the  car.  "Just 
picked  this  stuff  up  at  the  Railway 
Express."  He  waved  an  arm  breez- 
ily toward  the  load  behind  him. 

Janie  glanced  wildly  around  the 
tiny  apartment,  mentally  measuring 
the  capacity  of  its  little  cupboards, 
its  two  skimpy  closets.  "What  on 
earth's  in  all  those  boxes?"  she 
asked  apprehensively  as  her  lanky, 
sandy-haired  young  man  bounded 
up  the  steps. 

Dean  grinned.  "Don't  you  know, 
little  girl,  that  curiosity  once  killed 
a  cat?" 

He  was   close   to  her  now,  and 

Page  258 


Janie  felt  his  arm  come  around  her 
tight.  For  a  delicious  moment  she 
forgot  everything  but  the  dear  near- 
ness of  this  man  who  was  going  to 
be  hers,  hers  completely. 

Finally,  though,  she  lifted  her 
head  and  looked  over  his  shoulder. 
"But,  really,  Dean,  what  is  all  that 
stuff?  I  thought  we'd  brought 
everything  except  the  wedding  pres- 
ents over  here  this  morning." 

"It's  boxes  of  my  own  things 
Mother  just  sent  on  from  Sacra- 
mento," Dean  explained.  "She's 
had  'em  stored  in  the  attic  ever  since 
I  left  home."  He  chuckled.  "I'll  bet 
she's  glad  to  be  able  to  palm  'em 
off  on  you." 

"Things?"  Janie  echoed  blankly. 

"Honey,  you  may  not  know  it, 
but  you're  marrying  a  pack  rat," 
Dean  called  back  cheerfully  as  he 
disappeared  down  the  stairs  to  the 
trailer. 

As  Janie  watched  in  bewilder- 
ment, he  came  staggering  back  up 
with  a  huge  cardboard  carton.  Set- 
ting it  down  with  a  thud  that  made 
the  floor  lamp  dance,  he  said,  "I 
know  right  where  to  put  this  load. 
Thought  of  it  when  the  landlady 
was  showing  us  the  apartment."  He 
reached  down  and  took  hold  of  the 
handles  of  a  large  flat  drawer  in  the 
bottom  of  the  studio  couch. 

"She  said  that  place  was  for 
blanket  storage,"  Janie  reminded 
him  gently.  She  didn't  know  exact- 
ly what  was  in  that  box,  but  it  cer- 
tainly wasn't  bedding. 

"Blankets?"        Dean      muttered 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  THE  WEDDING 


259 


vaguely.  "Oh,  yes,  we'll  put  'em 
somewhere.  But,  look  what  a  great 
place  this  will  be  for  our  prize  speci- 
mens!" He  swept  open  the  drawer 
and  began  depositing  in  it  the  con- 
tents of  the  box. 

"Rocks!"  Janie  breathed. 

r\EAN  sat  back  on  his  heels  and 
smiled.  "I  suppose  you  might 
call  them  that,  if  you  didn't  know 
anything  about  them,"  he  conceded 
tolerantly.  "Actually,  they're  the 
cream  of  my  mineral  collection." 

"And  all  those  other  boxes?" 
Janie's  eyebrows  were  rising  higher 
by  the  second. 

"Oh,  other  hobby  stuff.  Boy,  it'll 
be  fun  to  get  back  to  'em,"  Dean 
answered  enthusiastically. 

Janie  stared  at  this  man  whom 
she  had  thought  she  knew  so  well. 
"I  didn't  realize  you  had  all  these 
interests,"  she  said  slowly. 

"The  truth  is,"  Dean  laughed, 
shutting  the  rock  drawer  with  a 
slam,  "since  I  came  here  to  Bakers- 
field  six  months  ago,  I've  been  so 
busy  trying  to  add  you  to  my  col- 
lection that  I  haven't  had  time  for 
any  of  my  hobbies." 

Janie  frowned.  So  she  was  just 
his  newest  hobby,  was  she? 

"If  you're  worrying  about  where 
to  put  the  blankets,"  Dean  said, 
"I've  got  just  the  solution."  He  ran 
out  of  the  room. 

A  couple  of  minutes  later  there 
was  a  great  thumping  and  bumping 
on  the  stairs  and  he  reappeared, 
dragging  his  wardrobe  trunk  into 
the  apartment.  "We  can  put  this 
in  the  bedroom  closet  and  use  it 
for  a  storage  chest,"  he  puffed. 
"Matter  of  fact,  I  don't  think 
there'll  be  room  for  it  in  the  garage 


anyway,  after  I  get  my  work  bench 
installed." 

"That  huge  thing  won't  fit  in 
there,"  Janie  wailed. 

"Sure  it  will,"  Dean  said  con- 
fidently. "Let's  see."  He  strode 
into  the  bedroom  and  wrenched 
open  the  closet  door.  "It'll  fit  if 
you  put  this  thing  somewhere  else," 
he  announced,  backing  out  with  a 
bulging  full-length  garment  bag. 

"But  those  are  my  winter  coats!" 

"Well,  chuck  'em  in  the  trunk, 
along  with  a  lot  of  other  things." 

"This  bag  has  already  been  moth- 
proofed," Janie  protested,  with  the 
vehemence  of  a  person  who's  begin- 
ning to  feel  pushed  around. 

For  a  moment  Dean  looked  baf- 
fled. Then  he  plopped  the  bag  on 
the  couch  and  put  his  arms  around 
her.  "This  housekeeping  business 
is  pretty  complicated,  isn't  it?"  he 
teased  fondly.  "But,  honey,  togeth- 
er, we  can  lick  any  problem  in  the 
world."  He  gave  her  a  quick  hug 
and  started  out  of  the  room.  "I'm 
going  down  to  get  the  rest  of  the 
boxes,"  he  called  back.  "Why  don't 
you  take  the  coats  back  to  your 
mother's  for  awhile?  It'll  be  months 
before  you'll  need  'em." 

"Men!"  Janie  groaned.  For  the 
first  time  since  about  the  age  of 
twelve,  she  felt  a  sweeping  exaspera- 
tion for  the  whole  male  sex. 


W1 


'HEN  Dean  came  back  into  the 
room  she  took  a  deep  breath. 
"Let's  finish  up  the  kitchen,"  she 
said  doggedly,  moving  over  toward 
a  carton  of  pans.  "Can  you  carry 
this  last  box  of  stuff  out  there?" 

"Sure  thing,"  Dan  agreed.  He 
picked  up  the  box  with  one  hand 
and  pushed  open  the  swinging  door 


260 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


with  the  other.  "Say/'  he  ex- 
claimed as  he  stared  around  the 
bright,  yellow-walled  room.  "I  can 
keep  my  photo-developing  gear  in 
this  top  cupboard.  With  running 
water  and  all,"  he  turned  on  the 
tap,  "the  kitchen  will  do  for  a  dark 
room!" 

Janie  smiled,  a  frigid,  set  smile 
which  should  have  frozen  the  drip- 
ping water  into  an  icicle.  "There's 
always  the  chance,"  she  said  acidly, 
"that  I  might  open  a  can  of  Hypo 
for  supper  some  night." 

"No,  you  won't,"  Dean  answered 
seriously.  "Because  I'm  going  to 
show  you  what  all  the  stuff  is,  and 
how  to  use  it.  It'll  be  fun  having 
an  assistant."  He  lifted  an  eyebrow 
and  grinned  at  her.  "Interesting 
possibilities  here  —  two  people  like 
us  in  a  dark  room  together  .  .  .  ." 
He  started  towards  her. 

"Oh,  go  away!"  Janie  burst  out 
crossly.  She  could  feel  the  tears 
coming  into  her  eyes. 

Dean  was  still  standing  close  to 
her,  a  puzzled  expression  on  his 
face.  "Janie  .  .  ."  he  began  uncer- 
tainly. 

"I  don't  want  to  know  how  to 
develop  pictures,"  Janie  almost 
shouted.  "I  don't  even  know  wheth- 
er I  want  to  .  .  .  ."  She  stopped, 
horrified  at  what  she'd  been  about 
to  say.  Now  she  was  sure  she  was 
going  to  cry.  It  would  have  been 
such  a  comfort  to  lay  her  head 
against  Dean's  solid  shoulder  and 
have  it  out.  But,  no,  she  couldn't 
very  well  do  that  when  he  was  the 
cause  of  it  ...  . 

"I'm  all  mixed  up,"  she  finished 
lamely.    "Just  leave  me  alone." 

"All  right,  Janie,"  Dean  said 
quietly.    "I  know  you're  tired.    I'll 


go  clean  up  the  living  room."  He 
went  out,  letting  the  door  swing 
shut  after  him  with  a  definite 
ph-lupp. 

Through  her  tears,  Janie  stared 
up  at  the  high  cupboard.  "It'll  be 
fun  having  an  assistant,"  she  echoed 
under  her  breath. 

She  saw  herself  mixing  his  Hypo 
for  him,  dusting  his  rocks,  spending 
lonely  hours  upstairs  while  he 
banged  around  at  his  work  bench 
in  the  garage  below.  Perhaps  he's 
getting  married  just  so  he'll  have  a 
place  to  park  his  junk,  she  thought 
wildly. 

Right  then  and  there  she  knew 
she  had  to  have  it  out  with  him. 

She  gave  the  swinging  door  a 
violent  push.  It  gave  an  inch  or 
two  and  then  refused  to  budge.  She 
pushed  harder,  to  no  avail. 

"Dean,"  she  called  in  a  panic. 
"This  door  —  it  won't  open." 

"Wait  a  minute,"  Dean  answered 
soothingly  from  the  other  side. 
"Guess  I  put  one  too  many  under 
the  rug  here." 

She  heard  a  shuffling  noise. 

"Now  try  it,"  he  told  her. 

TANIE  gave  a  determined  push  and 
practically  fell  into  the  living 
room.  Dean  was  down  on  his  hands 
and  knees  rolling  up  a  brightly  col- 
ored sheet  of  heavy  paper. 

"One  too  many  what?"  Janie  ex- 
ploded. 

"Maps,"  Dean  said  briefly.  "This 
one's  of  Central  Europe,  with 
boundaries  as  they  were  in  1870. 
Temporarily,  we  can  store  them  flat 
under  the  rugs." 

"Of  all  the  crazy  things  .  .  .  ." 
"Mom  had  wall-to-wall  carpeting 
all  over  the  house,"  Dean  went  on 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  THE  WEDDING 


261 


disgustedly.  "So  I  had  to  keep  my 
maps  folded  up.  But  here  in  our 
own  place,"  his  face  brightened, 
"well  keep  things  the  way  they 
should  be  kept."  He  crawled  over 
to  the  other  side  of  the  rug.  "Maybe 
I  can  get  this  one  under  this  side," 
he  muttered. 

Things  the  way  they  should  be 
kept!  Janie,  breathing  hard,  looked 
over  at  the  blanket  drawer  full  of 
rocks,  through  the  open  bedroom 
door  at  the  big  black  trunk  jammed 
into  the  closet,  and  then  down  at 
the  bulging  rug. 

Suddenly,  staring  at  the  floor,  her 
eyes  focused  on  the  front  page  of 
an  old  newspaper  in  which  one  of 
the  maps  had  been  wrapped.  "Play- 
boy Sued  for  Divorce,"  the  headlines 
screamed. 

Feeling,  at  this  moment,  an  un- 
comfortably personal  interest  in 
marital  problems,  she  leaned  over 
to  read  the  finer  type.  "Out  every 
night,"  the  article  went  on.  "Re- 
turning home  in  the  wee  hours.  No 
interests  at  home,  although  he  gave 
his  wife  his  complete  and  devoted 
attention  at  first 


Janie  stopped  reading  and  slowly 
straightened  up.  She  looked  over 
at  Dean,  still  busily  fussing  with 
that  map.  She  tried  to  visualize 
him  bored  with  life,  going  out  on 
the  town  for  excitement.  The  pic- 
ture just  wouldn't  come  into  focus. 
All  she  could  see  was  her  husband 
happily  puttering  around  with  some 
prints  in  a  blacked-out  kitchen  — 
and,  yes,  Janie,  herself,  handing  him 
the  Hypo.     She  laughed  shakily. 

Dean  looked  over  at  her.  "It 
does  seem  kind  of  silly,  stuffing  the 
maps  under  here,"  he  conceded. 
"But  it  won't  be  for  long,  honey. 
We  have  a  lot  of  cozy  evenings  com- 
ing up;  we'll  get  around  to  framing 
them  soon.  All  right?"  He  smiled 
beseechingly. 

All  at  once  Janie  felt  the  panic 
in  her  being  washed  away  by  a 
warm,  enveloping  wave  of  tolerance 
and  tenderness.  She  walked  quickly 
across  the  room  to  Dean  and 
dropped  down  beside  him.  "Yes, 
darling,"  she  said  happily,  as  his 
arms  opened  to  receive  her,  "every- 
thing's all  right." 


cJhe    Jxtngbtrd 


Ethel  Jacobson 

His  court  is  the  orchard  on  the  hill, 

His  throne  is  a  peach-tree  bough; 
A  ruby  winks  from  the  sable  crown 

That  graces  his  royal  brow. 
In  robes  of  velvet,  ermine-trimmed, 

He  watches  with  lively  eye 
Over  his  feathered  colony, 

Watches  the  wide  blue  sky 
That  no  marauding  hawk  or  crow 

May  swoop  with  threatening  wing 
While  a  small  bird  sits  on  a  peach-tree  bough, 

A  guardian  and  a  king! 


Willard  Luce 


MONTEZUMA  WELL,  ARIZONA 


Alternate  89 


Willard  Luce 


RUNNING  between  Flagstaff 
and  Prescott,  Arizona,  Alter- 
nate 89  presents  interesting 
scenery,  including  colorful  Oak 
Creek  Canyon,  three  important  In- 
dian ruins  —  Montezuma  Well, 
Montezuma  Castle,  and  Tuzigoot— 
the  mining  town  of  Jerome,  and 
Granite  Dells. 

Alternate  89  has  certain  disad- 
vantages, as  much  of  it  is  through 
low  country,  which  is  blistering  hot 
in  summer;  and  a  lot  of  it  is  moun- 
tainous, with  steep  grades  and  sharp 
Page  262 


curves,  making  it  a  slow  road. 

Flagstaff  is  in  high,  big-timber 
country,  and  the  first  thirteen  and 
a  half  miles  of  alternate  89  wind 
through  huge  growths  of  Ponderosa, 
Douglas  fir,  and  quaking  aspen. 
Then  the  road  comes  to  Lookout 
Point,  2000  feet  above  Oak  Creek. 
On  both  sides,  the  walls  of  Oak 
Creek  Canyon  are  timber  covered 
with  the  white  and  red  of  the  Co- 
conino sandstone  showing  through 
the  deep  green  of  the  timber.  Far 
below,  Oak  Creek  and  the  highway 


ALTERNATE  89 


263 


become  lost  beneath  the  dense  cov- 
ering of  pine,  sycamore,  and  aspen. 

Sedona,  located  at  the  mouth  of 
Oak  Creek  Canyon,  is  a  tourist  and 
movie  production  center.  Here 
the  sandstone  formations  are  more 
individualistic,  more  easily  photo- 
graphed and  more  spectacular. 

Seventeen  miles  from  Sedona  a 
paved  road  leaves  Alternate  89,  tak- 
ing you  to  the  two  sections  of 
Montezuma  Castle  National  Monu- 
ment. 

Montezuma  Well  looks  like  a 
miniature  volcanic  crater  with  a 
small  lake  inside.  Around  the  ledge 
between  the  top  of  the  crater  and 
the  water,  are  several  cliff  dwellings. 


Montezuma  Well  is  actually  a 
spring  which  pours  out  1,000  gal- 
lons of  water  every  minute.  Today, 
even  as  800  years  ago,  the  water  is 
used  for  irrigation.  By  the  museum, 
ancient  irrigation  ditches  are  coated 
with  lime. 

Montezuma  Castle  is  well  pre- 
served and  beautifully  located  high 
up  on  the  cream  and  buff-colored 
limestone  ledge  facing  Beaver 
Creek. 

Back  on  Alternate  89,  your  next 
stop  will  be  at  Tuzigoot,  a  pueblo- 
like fort  of  no  rooms.  Tuzigoot 
faces  the  Verde  River  from  a  hill 
a  few  miles  south  of  Clarkdale. 

Six  miles  and  1100  feet  up  Min- 


Willard  Luce 

TUZIGOOT   NATIONAL   MONUMENT   NEAR   CLARKDALE,    ARIZONA 


264 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


Willard  Luce 

GOVERNOR'S  HOUSE,  PIONEER  SQUARE,  PRESCOTT,  ARIZONA 

Prescott  was  the  first  territorial  capital  of  Arizona.  The  Governor's  House  was 
built  in  1864.  To  the  right  is  a  corner  of  the  Sharlot  Hall  Museum.  In  the  foreground 
are  Indian  and  pioneer  grindstones  and  millstones. 


gus  Mountain  from  Clarkdale  is  Je- 
rome, now  advertised  as  Arizona's 
newest  ghost  town.  A  quarter  of 
a  century  ago  it  boasted  a  popula- 
tion of  15,000;  today  there  are  only 
a  few  hundred  people  left.  Since 
1925  Jerome  has  been  slipping  down 
Mingus  Mountain  at  the  rate  of 
about  four  and  a  half  inches  per 
year.  Huge  cracks  have  appeared  in 
the  earth,  and  small  buildings  have 
been  condemned  and  torn  down. 

From  Jerome,  Alternate  89  climbs 
on  up  through  the  different  zones 
of  plant  life,  until  it  finally  reaches 
big  timber  again,  coming  to  an  ele- 
vation   of    7,029.     From   here   the 


highway  drops  once  more.  It  cross- 
es Chino  Valley  and  rejoins  U.  S. 
89  at  Granite  Dells. 

The  Dells  is  a  jumble  of  granite 
boulders  and  mounds,  scrambled  up 
in  a  haphazard  manner  to  form  a 
gigantic  rock  garden.  Huge  shade 
trees  line  Granite  Creek  and  the 
man-made  pools  which  are  used  for 
boating,  fishing,  and  swimming.  Be- 
neath the  trees  are  picnicking 
tables. 

You  are  now  back  on  U.  S.  89. 
Whichever  way  you  are  going,  it  is 
interesting  to  drive  the  six  miles 
southward  to  Prescott,  first  terri- 
torial capital  of  Arizona. 


ALTERNATE  89 

Here  at  Pioneer  Square  is  the  old 
Governor's  House,  a  long  structure 
built  in  1864,  now  a  museum  hous- 
ing a  collection  of  household  uten- 
sils, firearms,  and  furniture.  Back 
of  the  Governor's  House  is  the  Shar- 
lot  Hall  Museum,  which  houses  a 
library  of  pioneer  printed  material. 


265 

Two  log  cabins  stand  on  Pioneer 
Square,  one  a  replica  of  a  pioneer 
home,  the  other,  a  reproduction  of 
the  first  cabin  in  Prescott. 

Well,  there  it  is,  Alternate  89, 
an  interest  filled  ninety-two  miles- 
plus  a  little  extra  for  side  trips. 


uiapptness    /low 

Wilma  Boyle  Bunker 

TOO  many  of  us  are  guilty  of  postponing  our  happiness  until  the  future.  Too  many 
of  us  say,  'Tomorrow  I  will  do  some  of  the  things  I  would  like  to  do  today." 

If  we  are  ever  to  enjoy  life,  now  is  the  time,  not  tomorrow,  not  next  year,  nor  in 
some  future  life  ....  Today  should  be  our  most  wonderful  day. 

We  can  find  time  to  read;  we  can  study  music;  we  can  take  the  children  on  a  pic- 
nic or  try  out  a  new  recipe;  we  can  try  to  learn  to  mold  a  clay  ballerina  or  write  a  son- 
net. Are  we  so  practical  that  we  forget  to  dream?  Are  we  so  absorbed  in  making  a 
living  or  running  a  home  or  saving  a  dollar  that  we  cease  to  invest  in  our  dreams? 

It  is  important  that  we  plan  for  the  days  to  come,  that  we  prepare  as  best  we  can 
for  the  future,  but  if  we  wait  to  enjoy  life  until  we  think  everything  is  in  order,  we 
may  find  it  is  too  late. 

Time  has  struck  off  yesterday;  tomorrow  as  yet  does  not  exist;  we  are  sure  only 
of  today,  so  let  us  find  our  happiness  now,  this  day,  this  hour. 


Sacred  (ground 


Ida  Isaacson 

Sacred,  gull-laden  land, 
With  breath  of  mint  and  grass. 
What  shall  I  leave  thee, 
When  I  pass? 

My  footfall  is  so  light, 
Will  no  trace  or  print  be  found? 
Tell  those  who  follow  after 
That  I  loved  this  sacred  ground. 


Vernessa  M.  Nagle 

ASPENS,  NEAR  THE  SAN  FRANCISCO  PEAKS,  ARIZONA 


cJhe  J/Lspen   L^rove 

Vernessa  Miller  Nagle 

\  N  aspen  grove  in  spring  symbolizes  the  eternal  pattern  of  rebirth.     As  bare,  angular 
limbs  show  green  under  dark  bark,  the  prophecy  of  life  renewed  is  manifest. 

Dignity  in  adaptation  is  signified  in  an  aspen  grove  in  summer.  Here  is  yielding, 
yet  purposeful  adjustment,  a  reaching  for  the  heights.  Pliant  leaves  catching  the  breeze, 
never  still  on  the  quietest  of  summer  days,  symbolize  life's  constant  unrest,  as  they  be- 
come attuned  with  a  throbbing  world. 

Life's  fruition  is  seen  in  the  blending  of  riotous  coloring  of  an  aspen  grove 
in  fall.  Flaming  beauty  represents  achievement  crowned  in  glory.  Lavish  with  their 
gifts,  aspen  trees  of  burnished  hues  toss  riotous  grandeur  in  a  gesture  of  accomplish- 
ment. 

Stripped  of  rampant  beauty,  there  remains  dignity  of  age  in  a  winter  aspen  grove. 
Beauty  is  found  in  silver  filigree.  Here  is  resignation  without  compromise.  Unbowed,  with 
roots  secure,  life's  benediction  comes  in  the  peace  and  quiet  of  winter's  sunset  hour. 

Page  266 


There  Is  Still  Time 


Chapter  3 
Margery  S.  Stewart 


Synopsis:  Elizabeth  Anderson  is  dis- 
turbed by  a  strange  dream  in  which  she 
sees  herself  and  her  friends  walking  on 
crutches.  She  tells  the  dream  to  Brent, 
her  husband,  and  explains  to  him  that 
something  is  lacking  in  their  family  —  a 
spiritual  oneness.  Brent,  however,  is  so 
interested  in  making  money  that  he  does 
not  wish  to  understand  Elizabeth's  plea. 
Brent  receives  a  letter  from  his  brother 
David  requesting  that  Brent  take  their 
mother  into  his  home.  Elizabeth  sur- 
prises her  husband  and  children  by  insist- 
ing that  Grandmother  Anderson  is  wel- 
come to  come  and  live  with  them,  but 
after  the  Grandmother  arrives,  Elizabeth 
realizes  that  living  with  her  will  not  be 
easy. 

GRANDMA  Anderson  was  not 
to  be  awed  by  the  size  of  the 
house,    nor    the    swimming 
pool. 

''Seems  to  me  some  people  could 
make  better  use  of  their  money," 
she  sniffed. 

She  met  Matilda  head  up,  flags 
flying.  Elizabeth  shuddered  at  the 
covert  measuring  glance  that  passed 
between  the  two.  Grandma  An- 
derson sniffed  the  air.  "Apple  pie 
as  I  live  and  breathe."  She  took  a 
deeper  breath,  and  triumph  lighted 
her  face.     "Too  much  cinnamon." 

Elizabeth  flung  herself  into  the 
breach.  "Just  the  way  I  like  apple 
pie. 

"There's  them  as  like  apple  pie 
spicy,  and  there's  them  as  likes  ap- 
ple pie  baby  like,"  said  Matilda 
gently.  "Next  time  I'll  bake  one 
special,  just  for  you." 

Elizabeth   shot  her  a  glance  of 


gratitude  and  turned  Grandma  An- 
derson to  the  stairs.  In  the  room 
that  was  to  be  hers,  Grandma  An- 
derson was  abruptly  silent.  She 
touched  the  satin  headboard  of  the 
bed  with  gentle  hands,  "Pretty, 
isn't  it?"  She  sat  down  in  the  little 
padded  rocking  chair  and  closed  her 
eyes. 

"You  have  your  own  private  bal- 
cony," Elizabeth  said.  She  flung 
open  the  French  doors.  "You  can 
watch  it  get  morning  from  your 
bed." 

Grandma  Anderson's  eyes  flew 
open.  "Spend  the  morning  in  bed! 
Not  I,  let  me  tell  you.  I've  spent 
my  whole  life  getting  up  at  five,  and 
I  don't  expect  to  change  for  any- 
one. 

"Brent  likes  to  sleep  until  seven," 
Elizabeth  interpolated  gently. 

"Picked  up  that  lazy  habit  since 
his  marriage.  Believe  me,  when  he 
was  home  with  me,  he  was  up  at 
five  just  like  the  rest  of  us.  I  re- 
member how  he  hated  it  .  .  .  one 
time  .  .  .  ." 

"Seven,"  repeated  Elizabeth  firm- 
ly. "Now,  this  is  your  castle.  No 
one  can  come  in  at  all,  except  with 
your  permission." 

"...  So  I  told  him  then,  'Son,' 
I  said,  'as  long  as  you  are  under  my 
roof  .  .  .  /  "  She  stopped  short, 
digested  her  own  words,  gave  Eliza- 
beth a  sudden,  rueful,  understand- 
ing smile.    "Seven,  it  is." 

Elizabeth  smiled  back.  "Would 
you  like  to  rest  until  lunch  time, 

Page  267 


268 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


and  then  we'll  get  after  those  flow- 
ers?" 

"Mind  you  don't  cut  them  now. 
Seems  to  me  I  remember  once  you 
cut  flowers  and  didn't  put  them 
right  into  water  .  .  .  ." 

"I'll  wait,"  said  Elizabeth  meek- 
ly, and  closed  the  door.  She  thought 
of  the  evening  ahead  and  apprehen- 
sion gripped  her. 

HTHE  dinner  had  been  arranged  for 
twelve  people.  Grandma  An- 
derson's coming  made  it  thirteen. 
Brent  fussed  and  worried  about  this 
until  Elizabeth  solved  the  situation 
by  having  Elaine  join  them.  Elaine 
was  sulky  about  it,  dreading  the 
boredom  of  older  people. 

Grandma  Anderson  came  down 
just  as  the  guests  were  arriving.  She 
looked  small  and  frail  and  quaint  in 
the  voile  dress  with  its  crocheted 
collar  and  the  big  broach  at  her 
throat.  She  beamed  on  each  new 
guest  and  shook  hands  heartily. 

"Pleased  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Ames." 
She  peered  up  into  his  flushed, 
heavy  face.  "You  certainly  remind 
me  of  a  man  back  home  .  .  .  Olaf 
Swenson,  the  butcher  .  .  .  ." 

"Mother!"  Brent's  voice  was 
sharp.    He  glared  at  Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth  pretended  not  to  no- 
tice. She  hurried  the  women  away 
to  dispose  of  their  wraps.  When 
she  returned,  Grandma  Anderson 
was  happily  regaling  the  still  purple 
Mr.  Ames  with  the  hardships  of 
life  in  a  small  town  in  the  early 
nineteen  hundreds.  Mr.  Ames  fid- 
geted. Brent  looked  ill.  Elizabeth 
heard  her  own  voice  getting  edgy 
as  she  tried  to  smooth  over  one  ill- 
timed  remark  after  another  of 
Brent's  mother. 


The  evening  finally  ended.  Up- 
stairs in  their  bedroom,  Brent  jerked 
off  his  tie  savagely.  "That  settles  it. 
That  definitely  settles  it.  A  rest 
home.    I'll  go  find  one  tomorrow." 

"No."  Elizabeth  leaned  her  el- 
bows on  her  dressing  table,  rested 
her  face  in  her  palms.  "You  didn't 
see  her  eyes  this  morning  when  she 
saw  her  room,  like  a  child's  on 
Christmas.  We  can't  do  it."  She 
brushed  her  hair  furiously.  "I  shared 
her  opinion  of  Mr.  Ames."  She 
turned  to  Brent.  "I  like  your  moth- 
er, Brent.  She's  like  a  nice  cold 
wind  from  Beaver  blowing  away  a 
lot  of  dust." 

Brent  threw  down  his  shirt.  "She 
isn't  your  mother.    She's  mine." 

"She's  ours.  She  is  my  responsi- 
bility just  as  much  as  she  is  yours. 
Oh,  Brent,  it's  just  because  we 
haven't  learned  how  to  handle  the 
situation.  If  we're  wise  we'll  settle 
it  without  sending  her  away.  That's 
defeat." 

"We  can't  ask  anyone  here." 

"I'll  think  of  some  way,  one  or 
two  nights  a  week,  she  might  prefer 
a  movie  with  the  twins  or  Elaine." 

"She'll  want  to  go  with  us  every- 
where." 

"I'll  take  her  with  me  and  the 
children." 

"Matilda  will  quit." 

"Let  her." 

Elizabeth  looked  at  Brent.  He 
was  in  the  wrong  and  he  knew  it, 
and  he  was  trying  furiously  to  push 
her  into  a  corner.  Helplessness 
swept  her.  Their  lives  seemed  to 
get  more  tangled  and  complicated 
every  day. 

"What's  changing  you?"  Brent 
demanded.  "You  never  used  to  be 
like  this." 


THERE  IS  STILL  TIME 


269 


She  went  to  the  window,  looked 
out  into  the  night.  "Remember 
the  fun  we  had  when  we  were 
youngsters,  going  to  Church  all  the 
time.  You  used  to  be  a  whiz  in 
basketball.     Remember?" 

Brent  came  to  stand  beside  her. 
"Donna  told  me  about  the  Bible 
reading  and  the  prayers.  I  think 
that's  fine,  Eliza.  A  very  good  idea." 

She  rubbed  her  face  against  his 
shoulder.  "It's  making  such  a  dif- 
ference. There's  more  unity  than 
we  used  to  have.  Of  course,  some 
mornings  they  seem  bored  to  tears, 
but  again  on  another  day  they  want 
to  talk  about  things  for  hours."  She 
smiled  at  him.  "Are  you  ready  to 
join  us,  Brent?  It  would  make  us 
very  happy,  me  especially." 

Brent  turned  away.  "I  had 
Church  rammed  down  my  throat 
when  I  was  a  kid." 

"We  won't  ram  anything  into 
you,  Brent." 

He  shrugged  restlessly.  "I've  got 
too  much  on  my  mind.  It's  all 
right  for  you  and  the  kids.  Help 
yourselves.  But  count  me  out."  He 
smiled  warmly.  "Don't  get  me 
wrong.  I  believe  in  things.  Let's 
leave  it  at  that." 

Against  her  own  better  judgment, 
Elizabeth  pressed  him.  "It's  so  late, 
Brent.  We've  wasted  so  much  time. 
It  takes  time,  believe  me,  to  grow 
into  the  kind  of  person  he  would 
have  us  be." 

He  flung  back  the  covers  and 
slipped  into  bed.  "I'm  worn  out. 
We'll  continue  this  discussion  next 
Michaelmas,  how  about  it?"  He 
turned  on  his  stomach.  "I'll  look 
for  a  rest  home  in  the  morning." 

Elizabeth  turned  back  to  the  win- 
dow, snapping  off  the  lamp  on  her 


way.  The  gentle  darkness  fell 
around  her,  hiding  her  face,  her 
closed  eyes,  and  the  tense  moving 
of  her  lips.  Please,  let  there  be 
some  way  to  keep  Grandma  An- 
derson. She  needs  more  than  room, 
more  than  food,  she  needs  her  own 
around  her,  to  be  a  part  of  living. 

ELIZABETH  was  awakened  at 
two  in  the  morning  by  the 
sound  of  moaning  from  Grandma 
Anderson's  room.  She  rose  and  ran 
across  the  hall. 

"It's  my  chest,"  Grandma  And- 
erson panted.  "Hurts  something 
awful  .  .  .  something  I  ate  .  .  .  that 
apple  pie  .  .  .  too  spicy." 

"Shh."  Elizabeth  tried  to  stop 
the  steady  flow  of  words.  She  was 
terrified  by  the  whiteness  of  Grand- 
ma Anderson's  face  and  the  blue- 
ness  of  her  lips  and  eyelids.  She 
hurried  downstairs  and  called  the 
doctor,  brought  up  warm  water  and 
soda,  woke  Brent. 

The  doctor  came  after  an  inter- 
minable wait.  Elizabeth  watched 
tensely  as  he  listened,  probed,  lis- 
tened again,  his  face  calm,  but  his 
movements  hurried  as  he  pressed  a 
needle  into  Grandma  Anderson's 
arm. 

After  a  long  time  he  snapped  his 
bag  shut,  picked  it  up  and  motioned 
Elizabeth  and  Brent  out  of  the 
room.  They  followed  him  down- 
stairs. 

"She's  a  very  old,  little  lady,"  he 
said,  bluntly,  "with  a  heart  that 
should  have  failed  her  a  long  time 
ago.  Keep  her  happy,  keep  her 
mind  occupied."  He  looked  at 
Elizabeth  searchingly.  "Right  now 
she's  going  to  need  nursing,  careful, 
cheerful  nursing.    Nurses  are  rather 


270 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


scarce,  but  perhaps  I  can  find  one 
for  you." 

"I  can  do  it,"  Elizabeth  said  firm- 
ly. 'The  children  will  help  me.  I'll 
do  the  best  job  I  can." 

After  Brent  had  seen  the  doctor 
to  the  door  he  came  back  to  stand 
before  Elizabeth.  "Call  me  any 
name  you  like,"  he  said  heavily,  "I'D 
admit  I'd  fit  into  any  of  them." 

'Tou  just  didn't  understand, 
Brent.    You  just  didn't  think." 

He  came  to  her,  buried  his  face 
in  her  hair.  "Sometimes  I  feel  that 
I'm  a  thousand  miles  from  my  base. 
Help  me  find  my  way  back." 

"You'll  find  it,  Brent.  We  all 
will,  if  we  try  hard  enough." 

He  tightened  his  grip  on  her.  "It's 
going  to  be  rough  on  you.  She'll 
make  an  exacting  invalid." 

"So  it's  rough,"  Elizabeth  smiled 
ruefully.  "I'm  beginning  to  believe 
that  a  smooth  passage  isn't  always 
the  best  .  .  .  many  storms  make  a 
good  sailor." 

"You  made  that  up,"  he  accused 
her. 

She  laughed,  "Perhaps  I'm  going 
to  grow  old  like  other  ladies  I've 
seen  and  bring  out  my  conclusions 
like  mints  out  of  a  pocketbook." 

"Pop  them  into  people's  minds?" 
He  held  her  closer.  "You're  funny 
and  sweet,  and  I  don't  know  which 
is  the  mostest,  as  Donna  would  say." 

She  rested  against  him  for  a  mo- 
ment, glad  for  his  stocky  strength. 
"I'd  better  run  up  and  start  work- 
ing at  my  job." 

Grandma  Anderson  opened  heavy 
eyes,  the  drugs  were  taking  effect. 
"I  knew  it.  The  minute  I  laid  eyes 
on  this  little  room  I  knew  I'd  never 
get  to  stay.     First  I  thought  you'd 


send  me  away,  like  David's  wife  .  .  . 
but  I  never  figured  on  this." 

Elizabeth  sat  in  the  little  rocker. 
"You're  going  to  have  this  little 
room  until  you  can't  stand  the  sight 
of  it.  It's  your  room,  as  long  as  you 
want  it.  You're  part  of  our  family 
like  Donna  is  part,  or  Johnny,  or 
Jennie." 

"Part  of  your  family?"  Grandma 
Anderson  closed  her  eyes  on  a  deep 
breath.  "I  haven't  felt  part  of  a  fam- 
ily since  my  husband  Jim  died."  Her 
mouth  twisted.  "Not  that  some 
of  it  isn't  my  fault.  I  have  the  fin- 
est family  .  .  .  ." 

TT  was  a  long,  bitter  battle.  There 
were  nights  when  Elizabeth,  sit- 
ting in  the  rocker  in  the  small  hours 
of  the  night,  felt  death,  like  fog 
creep  icily  through  the  room. 

Grandma  Anderson  was  im- 
patient and  querulous.  "I  just  don't 
see  why  the  doctor  can't  do  some- 
thing for  me.  No  doctor  like  Doc- 
tor Davidson  in  Beaver.  Is  it  time 
for  my  medicine?  I  declare,  if  I 
don't  remind  you  every  minute, 
you'll  up  and  forget." 

"It  won't  be  time  for  your  medi- 
cine for  another  hour,  try  to  sleep." 

"In  this  bed!  It's  too  soft  one 
minute  .  .  .  too  hard  the  next,  not 
enough  room.  Slept  all  my  life  in 
a  double  bed  .  .  .  ."  On  and  on 
it  went. 

Elaine  was  the  one  who  became 
almost  a  right  hand  to  Elizabeth. 
Elaine,  who,  tender  and  gentle, 
helped  to  bathe  the  wasted,  frail 
body,  who  brought  pretty  trays  to 
tempt  Grandma  Anderson's  appe- 
tite, who  came  in  at  odd  hours  of 
the  night  to  insist  that  Elizabeth 
get  sleep. 


THERE  IS  STILL  TIME 


271 


Elizabeth  dared  not  unburden 
the  strain  and  the  weariness  on 
Brent.  He  had  lost  the  bid  for  the 
tract  he  had  set  his  heart  on  build- 
ing. He  was  morose,  easily  infuri- 
ated.   She  endured  alone. 

The  one  bright  moment  in  the 
day  was  the  hour  after  breakfast 
when  Brent  had  gone  and  the  chil- 
dren, ready  for  school,  knelt  with 
her  in  prayer.  There  was  intensity 
in  their  petitions.  They  had  all 
fallen  deeply  in  love  with  Grandma 
Anderson.  Sometimes  Elizabeth 
read  a  psalm  that  fell  like  balm  on 
all  their  hearts.  Sometimes  she  read 
from  Proverbs,  and  they  eyed  each 
other  uneasily  as  the  piercing  truths 
touched  a  tender  spot. 

They  began  to  go  to  Sunday 
School.  Elizabeth  found  herself 
looking  forward  to  Sunday  morn- 
ings, to  the  joy  that  would  sweep 
over  her  when  she  saw  her  children 
in  their  places,  to  the  nostalgia 
when  she  heard  her  children  sing- 


ing the  songs  she  had  loved  as  a 
child.  Sacrament  services  began  to 
be  a  part  of  their  lives.  The  chil- 
dren made  friends  easily.  Elaine 
was  soon  the  center  of  admiring 
boys  and  girls,  but  Elizabeth  felt 
herself  utterly  alone.  She  missed 
Brent  so  much  on  these  Sunday 
evenings  that  she  felt  he  might  well 
be  in  Singapore  or  Egypt,  for  the 
gulf  between  them  and  the  pain 
of  it. 

But  he  would  have  none  of  it.  "I 
don't  have  the  time,  Elizabeth.  I'm 
having  rough  going  with  that  bid 
I  lost  and  a  few  other  things." 

"But  we  have  enough." 

'There's  never  enough.  There's 
always  a  quota  to  exceed  or  keep 
even  with,  if  a  man  wants  to  get 
ahead." 

She  fled  from  his  pride  to  the 
childish  murmurings  of  Donna  or 
to  the  twins'  world  of  Indians,  cow- 
boys, and  ships  from  outer  space. 
(To  be  continued) 


J/ipnI-Q/ingered 

Eva  WiiJes  Wangsgaard 

For  centuries,  the  spindrift  and  the  sand 
Possessed  the  beach,  worn  bare  beneath  the  sky, 
Parched  by  incessant  sun,  a  desert  land 
Alone  with  breakers  and  the  curlew's  cry. 

Then,  someone,  April-fingered,  found  a  moss 
That  clung  to  creeping  sand  and  held  it  still 
Inured  to  drought  and  restless  waves  that  toss 
Their  spume  in  anger  at  the  weather's  will. 

Now  beauty  lies  in  robes  that  dawn  might  wear; 
Pink-petaled  loveliness  erased  the  dun. 
First  green  and  then  a  million  blooms  were  there 
And  iridescent  wings  reflecting  sun. 


FROM    THE    FIELD 


Margaret  C.  Pickering,  General  Secretary-Treasurer 

All  material  submitted  for  publication  in  this  department  should  be  sent  through 
stake  and  mission  Relief  Society  presidents.  See  regulations  governing  the  submittal 
of  material  for  ''Notes  From  the  Field"  in  the  Magazine  for  April  1950,  page  278,  and 
the  Handbook  of  Instructions,  page  123. 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  ACTIVITIES 


Photograph  submitted  by  Rita  H.  Stone 

SAMOAN  MISSION,  PESEGA  DISTRICT,  MOTOOTUA  AND 
NAVU  BRANCHES  BAZAAR 


Rita  H.  Stone,  President,  Samoan  Mission  Relief  Society,  stands  beside  one  of  the 
booths  of  this  successful  bazaar. 

Sister  Stone  reports:  "The  women  had  made  hot  pads,  children's  clothing,  and 
pillows;  they  had  block-printed  native  designs  on  materials  to  be  used  for  dresses  and 
shirts,  and  had  also  made  luncheon  cloths  and  napkins  and  various  other  articles.  The 
booth  in  the  picture  was  made  from  a  few  sticks  and  poles  decorated  with  leaves  from 
the  coconut  trees.  It  was  very  unique  and  picturesque.  I  am  very  happy  with  the 
progress  made  in  our  Relief  Societies.    Our  Singing  Mothers  groups  are  growing  also." 

Page  272 


NOTES  FROM  THE  FIELD 


273 


Photograph  submitted  by  Ruth  Stapley 

PHOENIX  STAKE  (ARIZONA)  SINGING  MOTHERS  PRESENT  MUSIC  FOR 
STAKE  QUARTERLY  CONFERENCE,  January  15,  1956 

Rowena  Root,  the  chorister,  stands  in  front  at  the  right  (in  dark  dress);  Joanna 
Reismann,  the  organist,  stands  near  the  organ,  at  the  left;  just  above,  and  at  Sister 
Reismann's  left,  is  Permella  Hoggard,  First  Counselor;  at  Sister  Hoggard's  left  is  Ruth 
Stapley,  President,  Phoenix  Stake  Relief  Society. 

Sixty-five  Singing  Mothers  sang  in  this  chorus  for  two  sessions  of  the  stake  con- 
ference. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Amanda  Hancock 

YOUNG  STAKE   (NEW  MEXICO  AND  COLORADO)    SINGING  MOTHERS 
PRESENT  MUSIC  AT  STAKE  QUARTERLY  CONFERENCE 

November  20,  1955 


Grace  B.  Wilson,  chorister,  stands  at  the  right  in  the  second  row;  at  Sister  Wil- 
son's right  is  Beth  Christensen,  stake  organist.  Pianist  for  the  occasion,  Joan  Elliot, 
stands  at  the  left  on  the  second  row. 

Helen  M.  Stock,  President,  Young  Stake  Relief  Society,  reports  that  although  the 
members  of  this  chorus  live  in  widely  scattered  localities,  and  their  practicing  was  limited 
to  one  session,  their  singing  was  most  beautiful. 


274 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


Photograph  submitted  by  Verma  B.  James 

EAST  PHOENIX  STAKE   (ARIZONA)   VISITING  TEACHERS  CONVENTION 

November  16,  1955 

Stake  officers  and  teachers  seated  on  the  floor,  left  to  right:  fourth  from  the  left 
(in  dark  jumper  and  white  blouse),  Betty  Rice,  organist;  Carol  Gleove,  social  science 
class  leader;  Carma  Merrill,  Second  Counselor;  Maggie  Barra,  work  meeting  leader; 
Hazel  Nelson,  theology  class  leader;  Verma  James,  Secretary;  Lola  Green,  President; 
Reba  Bryce,  First  Counselor. 

Second  row,  seated,  third  from  the  left:  Cora  Mack,  Magazine  representative. 

These  visiting  teachers  represent  seven  wards.  To  honor  them,  an  inspirational 
program  and  testimonial  was  held,  and  the  oldest  visiting  teacher  was  recognized  and 
presented  with  a  gift. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Orena  E.  Hoover 

UTAH  STAKE,  PARK  WARD  RELIEF  SOCIETY  HONORS 
FORMER  PRESIDENTS,  December  1955 

Left  to  right:  Mildred  M.  Egan,  present  President;  former  presidents:  Reva  Thom- 
as; Eva  Weitzeil;  Vera  Hunter;  Josephine  Clark;  Ada  Dalebout. 

"The  Park  Ward  celebrated  its  tenth  anniversary  in  December  1955,  and  at  this 
time  the  Relief  Society  held  a  delightful  party  honoring  the  past  presidents.  Each  presi- 
dent and  counselor  related  an  interesting  or  amusing  incident  which  happened  during 
the  time  she  was  in  office. 


NOTES  FROM  THE  FIELD 


275 


"Park  Ward  was  the  first  ward  in  the  stake  to  contribute  its  share  to  the  building 
fund  for  the  new  Relief  Society  Building  ....  They  obtained  their  funds  by  serving 
banquets  to  various  organizations,  among  them,  the  National  Governors  Convention  in 
1947  at  Aspen  Grove,  where  governors  from  all  the  states  enjoyed  a  lovely  dinner  in  the 
open  air,  near  majestic  Mount  Timpanogos.  They  expressed  their  appreciation  for  a 
delicious  meal  so  efficiently  served  to  nearly  three  hundred  people  in  just  twentv 
minutes,  enabling  them  to  keep  their  schedule  on  their  tour.  It  was  a  memorable 
occasion  for  all.  The  Relief  Society  continued  their  dinner  projects  and  furnished  the 
Relief  Society  room  and  kitchen  of  the  beautiful  new  chapel  which  they  are  now  en- 
joying." 

Orena  E.  Hoover  is  president  of  Utah  Stake  Relief  Society. 


Photograph  submitted  by  Aliene  N.  Bloxham 

HUMBOLDT   STAKE    (NEVADA),   BATTLE   MOUNTAIN  BRANCH   RELIEF 
SOCIETY  ORGANIZED,  January  29,  1956 

Front  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Thelma  Welch,  Secretary;  Marva  Elquist,  Second 
Counselor;  Louise  Sellers,  President;  Joan  Swackhammer,  First  Counselor. 

Second  row,  seated,  left  to  right:  Marvelle  Edgar;  Lillian  Potter;  Dorothy  Sargent; 
Zelma  Keel. 

Back  row,  standing,  left  to  right:  Alice  Hyde;  Leola  Edgar;  Mary  Littledyke,  Sec- 
ond Counselor,  Humboldt  Stake  Relief  Society;  Alta  Sorensen,  First  Counselor,  Hum- 
boldt Stake  Relief  Society;  Ahene  N.  Bloxham,  President,  Humboldt  Stake  Relief  So- 
ciety; Elder  Emerson  H.  Potter,  President,  Battle  Mountain  Branch. 

Sister  Bloxham  reports  satisfaction  and  happiness  in  the  organization  of  this 
branch  Relief  Society:  "I  am  happy  to  report  the  newly  organized  Relief  Society  of 
the  Battle  Mountain  Branch.  We  were  fortunate  in  having  all  our  stake  presidency 
there.  The  stake  Relief  Society  executives  were  there  also,  except  for  the  secretary.  The 
spirit  of  th  Lord  was  surely  with  us,  and  we  felt  the  power  of  the  Priesthood.  There 
are  between  thirty  and  thirty-five  women  living  in  the  area  and  we  are  in  hopes  of  hav- 
ing them  as  members  of  our  Relief  Society." 


276 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


Photograph  submitted  by  Betty  Jo  C.  Reiser 

ROSE  PARK  STAKE  (SALT  LAKE  CITY,  UTAH)  PRESENTS  DRAMA 

"RIDERS  TO  THE  SEA" 

The  cast,  left  to  right:  Bartley — Dan  Monson;  Nora — Marion  Huston;  Maurya — 
lone  Tippetts;  Cathleen — Beverly  Berntsen. 

President  Betty  Jo  C.  Reiser,  reports:  "John  Millington  Synge's  'Riders  to  the  Sea,' 
a  part  of  the  December  literature  lesson,  rated  special  treatment  in  the  new  Rose  Park 
Stake,  with  a  full  production  under  the  direction  of  Verda  Mae  Christensen,  stake  litera- 
ture class  leader.  It  rated  special  praises,  too,  from  the  two  hundred  Relief  Society 
women  from  the  five  Rose  Park  wards  attending.  Sister  Christensen  had  her  first  ex- 
perience in  directing  a  play  cast  primarily  of  adult  women  —  loyal  Relief  Society  women 
—  and  reports  it  was  a  most  wonderful  group.  Sister  lone  Tippetts,  who  played  Maurya, 
has  seven  children  under  thirteen  years  of  age.  Sister  Marion  Huston,  who  played  Nora, 
has  six  children  in  the  same  age  group.  Other  members  of  the  cast  each  has  three  chil- 
dren. And  it  was  the  busy  pre-Christmas  season.  Yet  the  play  left  nothing  to  be  de- 
sired in  the  way  of  finesse,  dramatic  strength,  and  theatrical  polish.  The  Lord  has 
truly  blessed  the  sisters  in  Rose  Park  Stake  to  be  able  to  accomplish  such  things  while 
they  are  rearing  their  families,  at  a  time  when  they  feel  they  most  need  the  blessings  of 
Relief  Society  work.  Sister  Christensen  was  assisted  by  the  ward  literature  class  leaders: 
Doris  Shutt,  Dorothy  Evans,  Mildred  Keyes,  and  Margaret  England." 


(Pal 


omtno 


Maude  Rubin 

With  Chloe,  the  buckskin  mare,  progress  was  slow  .... 

She  hated  the  word,  "Giddapf— Much  preferred  "Whoa!" 

Sedately  she  trotted  or  ambled  or  paced — 

Never  excited;  no,  she  never  raced! 

A  yen  for  green  pastures  would  often  assail  her. 

But  her  daughter,  a  blonde,  gets  there  in  a  trailer! 


I  lew    Vistas 


Jennie  Brown  Rawlins 

"Here,  you  ride  him,  Auntie,"  invited 
my  young  niece,  who  was  proudly  show- 
ing off  her  new  pony. 

"No,  no,  dear,"  I  remonstrated  quick- 
ly. "Auntie  doesn't  care  about  riding 
horses  any  more." 

Then,  remembering  the  days  when  rid- 
ing a  pony  over  the  smooth,  rolling  hills 
had  been  the  epitome  of  joy  to  me,  I  ex- 
perienced a  feeling  of  nostalgic  sadness.  I 
recalled  that  there  were  several  other  hob- 
bies and  pastimes  that  used  to  fill  me  with 
deep-souled  delight  that  I  no  longer  en- 
joyed. There  were  dishes  that  used  to 
tickle  my  palate  that  somehow  seemed 
now  to  have  lost  their  savor.  I  kept 
thinking  of  a  line  from  a  poem:  "My 
straw  no  longer  bends  in  colored  water." 
It's  true,  I  said  to  myself,  as  we  grow  old- 
er we  no  longer  greet  life  with  such  youth- 
ful exuberance.  Our  senses  are  not  as 
perceptive  to  the  keen  enjoyment  of 
things. 

There  followed  a  series  of  events  that 
proved  how  wrong  I  was.  During  the 
summer  months  I  was  invited  to  join  a 
group  that  was  planning  to  attend  a  course 
at  the  college.  With  slight  feelings  of 
guilt  about  robbing  my  family  (the  young- 
est of  whom  was  twelve)  of  so  much  of 
my  time,  I  hesitated,  until  reminded  that 
it  would  be  a  wonderful  opportunity  for 
them  to  learn  to  accept  responsibility. 

The  instructor  had  a  dynamic  person- 
ality, and  was  full  of  fresh,  new  ideas,  and, 
without  being  asked,  answered  many  of 
the  questions  that  I  had  been  pondering 
in  my  heart.  It  was  like  a  gift  that  you 
appreciate  all  the  more  because  you  have 
experienced  a  need  for  it.  I  do  not  re- 
member ever  having  enjoyed  a  course  so 
much  in  my  younger  days. 

That  winter  we  went  on  a  trip  and  re- 
visited some  of  the  places  I  had  visited  as 
a  girl.  This  time  it  was  not  the  zoo  and 
amusement  parks  that  intrigued  me  so 
much  as  the  museums  and  art  galleries — 


III/ (other  6  csDclu 

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M-O-T-H-E-R-Morse     25 

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PRAYER  FOR  MY  MOTHER- 

Todd    15 

SONGS  MY  MOTHER  TAUGHT 
ME-Dvorak     10 

THAT'S   WHAT   GOD   MADE 

MOTHERS    FOR-Wood    25 

THAT  WONDERFUL   MOTHER 

OF    MINE-Goodwin    20 


Music  Sent  on  Approval 

Use  this  advertisement  as  your  order  blank 


DAYNES  MUSIC  COMPANY 
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Salt  Lake  City  11,  Utah 
Please  send  the  music  indicated  above. 

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Page  277 


278 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— APRIL  1956 


BRAND 
NAMES? 


Don  t  Guess 


MAKE  SEARS  BRAND 
NAMES  YOUR  GUIDE 
I     TO  WISE  BUYING 


COLDSPOTkenmore 


Sl&.U.S.PAl    Off. 


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All  Sold  Only  By 
Sears,  Roebuck  and  Co. 


HISTORIC  TRAIN 

Write  for  information  about 
the  HISTORIC  TRAIN  that  will 
include  the  great  PAGEANT 
AT  THE  HILL  CUMORAH. 

EUROPE 

Another  famous  FESTIVAL 
TOUR.  Sails  for  Europe  from 
Montreal  on  July  16,  1956, 
via  the  Empress  of  Canada. 
For  Complete  Details,  Write  or 
Phone: 

Vida   Fox  Clawson 

966  East  South  Temple 
Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 


places  I  had  considered  stodgy  and  dull 
in  my  youth. 

I  began  studying  my  Relief  Society  les- 
sons more  carefully,  taking  renewed  pleas- 
ure in  them  as  I  did  so.  I  even  did  some 
extracurricular  reading  in  the  field  of  lit- 
erature. The  characters  in  David  Copper- 
Beld  and  Withering  Heights  became  more 
humanly  appealing  when  seen  through  the 
spectrum  of  experience,  and  poems  that 
I  had  recited  parrot-like  in  school  sudden- 
ly blossomed  with  exciting  shades  of  mean- 
ing. 

A  neighbor  of  mine  is  starting  an  heir- 
loom quilt — a  thing  she  admits  she  would 
not  have  had  the  patience  to  undertake 
when  she  was  twenty.  Another  neighbor 
gets  great  satisfaction  out  of  gathering 
genealogical  data — a  project  for  which 
she  says  she  has  had  little  time  or  inclina- 
tion until  recently. 

I  must  not  fail  to  mention  the  soul- 
permeating  joy  that  comes  from  service 
to  others,  and  from  becoming  acquainted 
with  the  beautiful  truths  of  the  gospel — 
a  joy  that  maturity  but  enhances. 

Yes,  new  vistas  are  continually  opening 
up  before  us.  How  foolish  we  are  if  we 
keep  our  eyes  glued  only  to  the  old. 


K^trcli 


trcte 

Catherine  E.  Berry 

The  blue-gray  twilight  stretches  now 

Across  the  hills  of  night, 

And  windows  of  each  little  house 

Are  blossoming  with  light. 

Tired  husbands  open  waiting  gates, 

And  children  straggle  home, 

The  homing  instinct  conquering 

The  primal  urge  to  roam. 

Beneath  each  small  and  sturdy  roof 

Are  gathering  the  clan, 

The  need  for  food  and  light  and  warmth, 

Instinctive  in  each  man, 

Has  pushed  the  night  beyond  the  door, 

Beyond  each  window  pane, 

And  drawn  the  circle  in  and  made 

It  safe,  complete,  again. 


cfo  the  [Relief  Society 
Visiting  cJeachers 


Hazel  Jones  Owen 

Perhaps  you  think  the  task  is  small 
Which  you've  been  called  to  do, 
But  what's  important  is  the  fact 
So  much  depends  on  you. 

A  tiny  little  mustard  seed 
Has  power  truly  great; 
It  takes  a  little  thing  like  love 
To  banish  fear  and  hate. 

It  takes  perfected  detail 
To  make  a  masterpiece  in  art; 
Small  things  in  a  mighty  building 
Must  play  a  major  part. 

The  little  tasks,  the  kindly  deeds, 
The  world  may  not  applaud  .... 
But  it's  the  scope  of  all  the  little  things 
That  shows  the  greatness  of  our  God! 


c/t    Lise  for  (cy/d  Screens 

Elizabeth  Williamson 

PvON'T  throw  away  old  window  screens 
*-*  — they  make  an  effective  protection 
for  new  plants  against  sun,  wind,  and 
birds. 


ORGANISTS 

You  will  receive  full  infor- 
mation about  new  organ 
music  and  materials  as  it 
is  issued,  and  also  sugges- 
tions of  outstanding  inter- 
est, by  filling  in  the  coupon 
below  and  mailing  it  to 

GLEN  BROS.  MUSIC  CO. 

74  So.  Main        Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

Name    

Address     

Type  of  Organ   

Where  Installed  


IV s  awaiting 
You  . .  . 

X  .fcSa  there  is  still  a  tremendous  amount 
of  outstanding  instruction  and  use  await- 
ing you  in  this  and  other  copies  of  the 
Relief  Society  Magazine.  Your  editions 
may  be  handsomely  bound  at  the  West's 
finest  bindery  and  printing  plant  for  $2.50 
cloth  bound  and  $3.50  leather  bound  per 
volume  plus  postage  for  mail  orders.  All 
mail  orders  must  be  paid  in  advance. 
Follow  these  postage  rates  if  you  send 
your  order  by  mail: 

Distance  from 

Salt  Lake  City,  Utah  Rate 

Up  to  150  miles  35 

150  to    300  miles 39 

300  to    600  miles 45 

600  to  1000  miles  54 

1000  to  1400  miles  64 

1400  to  1800  miles 76 

Over  1800  miles  87 

Leave  them  at  our  conveniently  locat- 
ed uptown  office. 

Deseret  News  Press 

Phone  EMpire  4-2581    ^5^ 

31  Richards  St.       Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah  ^Jff^jl 

Page  279 


C/rom    I  Lear  and  cfar 


The  Magazine  is  always  a  great  pleasure 
to  me,  from  its  beautiful  and  artistic 
cover  design  to  the  very  last  page,  with 
its  delightful  messages  "From  Near  and 
Far."  The  inspiring  address  by  President 
J.  Reuben  Clark  Jr.  in  the  December 
issue  brought  joy  and  peace  to  my  soul 
and  added  desire  in  my  heart  to  live  the 
teachings  of  our  glorious  gospel.  That 
discussion  of  "Children  in  the  Scrip- 
tures" is  of  such  value  and  interest  and 
gives  us  the  Lord's  instructions  regard- 
ing children.  These  universal  laws  that 
are  as  applicable  now  as  when  they  were 
first  written  are  given  with  such  an  inter- 
esting insight  into  our  lives  today.  I  was 
particularly  impressed  with  the  words  of 
the  great  prophet  Alma  when  he  said: 
".  .  .  little  children  do  have  words  given 
to  them  many  times,  which  confound 
the  wise  and  the  learned."  It  is  my 
prayer  that  every  subscriber  to  the  Maga- 
zine will  read  this  inspirational  message 
and  profit  from  its  teachings.  The  frontis- 
piece picture  "New  England  Winter"  and 
the  winter  scene  "Brook  in  Winter"  are 
marvelous  examples  of  photographic  art. 
I  am  thrilled  with  their  loveliness. 

— Mrs.  Emma  M.  Gardner 


Sacramento,  California 

I  would  like  to  take  this  opportunity 
to  thank  you  for  The  Relief  Society  Maga- 
zine and  its  wonderful  articles.  I  am  the 
branch  president  in  the  West  Hartlepool 
Branch.  Several  months  ago  I  found  it 
necessary  to  take  the  position  of  teacher 
in  Relief  Society,  and,  without  this  won- 
derful Magazine  to  help  me,  I  am  sure 
I  would  have  been  lost.  My  mother  is 
president  of  the  Richards  Ward  Relief  So- 
ciety in  Sugar  House  Stake,  and  she  has 
arranged  to  have  The  Relief  Society  Mag- 
azine sent  to  me.  I  have  been  reading  it 
every  month  for  sixteen  months,  and  I 
have  really  enjoyed  it.  The  sisters  of 
the  British  Mission  will  agree  with  me 
when  I  say  that  The  Relief  Society  Mag- 
azine is  the  best  Magazine  of  its  kind  in 
the  whole  world. 

— Elder  Marvin  Lee  Howard 


West  Hartlepool  Branch 
British  Mission 


I  enjoy  reading  the  Magazine  very 
much.  At  present  I  am  finding  very  fine 
reading  in  the  January  number.  How 
lovely  and  very  much  worthwhile  are  the 
prize-winning  poems  and  the  story!  I 
recall,  in  reading  them,  the  thrill  our 
family  received  when  we  saw  mother's 
picture  and  poem  "Barren  Woman's  Cry" 
in  the  Magazine  (January  1952)  and 
learned  she  had  placed  third.  She  had 
kept  the  news  from  us,  and  we  were  com- 
pletely surprised.  I  am  happy  to  see 
poems  by  Agnes  Just  Reid,  also.  She  lives 
near  here  and  is  a  very  nice  person.  I 
teach  one  of  her  grandchildren. 

— Joyce  Atkinson 
Firth,  Idaho 


I  want  to  thank  you  kindly  for  publish- 
ing the  article  which  I  sent  you  "Reba 
Turner  —  Lady  of  Charity"  (January 
1956).  Sister  Turner  is  happy  about  it, 
and  she  has  received  many  telephone  calls 
and  letters  from  sisters  in  other  wards 
whom  she  doesn't  know  —  which  is  very 
wonderful,  and  she  is  most  deserving  of 
the  honor.  The  ward  Relief  Society  at 
Loa  has  framed  the  article  and  placed  it 
on  the  wall  in  the  lovely  Relief  Society 
room  in  the  stake  tabernacle.  Everyone 
is  happy  for  Sister  Turner.  I  love  the 
Relief  Society  work  and  enjoy  the  Maga- 
zine each  month. 

-Nell  Ekker 
Loa,  Utah 


Please  renew  my  Relief  Society  Mag- 
azine. I  surely  love  to  read  it.  I  am 
almost  blind,  but  I  take  my  time  and 
take  great  pleasure  in  looking  at  the  love- 
ly faces.  I  love  my  Church.  I  am  eighty 
years  old  and  crippled,  but  my  sisters 
come  and  take  me  to  Church  —  it  is  a 
lovely  home  of  the  Lord.  Happy  New 
Year  to  all  the  sisters  in  Relief  Society. 
I  go  whenever  I  am  able,  and  hope  some 
day  I  may  meet  you  all. 

— Ollie  D.  Young 
Chico,  California 


Page  280 


OF   PRESIDENT 


Compiled    by    DR.    LLEWELYN    R.    McKAY 

This  new  book  on  the  personality  of  President  David  O. 
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day-by-day  notes  on  his  world  tour  with  Hugh  J.  Cannon, 
gives  glimpses  of  his  family  life  and  his  home  in  Hunts- 
ville ;  it  expresses  his  love  for  others,  especially  for  chil- 
dren and  animals.  There  are  selections  from  talks  and 
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written,  tributes  paid  him,  and  many  stories  and  quota- 
tions taken  from  his  personal  life.  $3.75 


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Letters 


CLAUDE    RICHARDS 


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as  information  from  other 
leaders  of  prominence.  The 
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a  sound  education  in  the  his- 
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FROM  THE  WRITINGS   OF 
PRESIDENT   DAVID   O.   McKAY 

Compiled  by  CLARE  MIDDLEMISS 

These  "cherished  experiences"  are  taken 
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L.D.S.  President,  he  has  traveled  to  dis- 
tant outposts  of  the  earth — to  many  coun- 
tries in  Europe,  South  Africa,  South 
America,  and  South  Seas,  and  little-known 
countries  in  the  Orient.  To  people  every- 
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stored Gospel.  Share  with  him  all  these 
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Descrct 


DESERET  BOOK  COMPANY 
44  East  South  Temple 
Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 

Gentlemen: 

Enclosed  you  will  find     (     )  check     (     )  money  order    (     )  charge 

to    my    account   the    following    amount  $ for 

the    encircled    (numbered)    books: 


1 


Name 


Address 
City 


Zone State. 

Residents  of  Utah   include  2%  sales  tax. 


There'll  be  some  changes  made  . . . . 


There'll  be  more  than  just  diaper  changes  when  this 
youngster  comes  home.  A  new  addition  to  the  family 
always  means  new  responsibilities,  new  financial  obliga- 
tions. A  new  baby,  an  increase  in  your  income,  the  pur- 
chase of  a  new  home — these  and  many  other  changes 
signal  the  time  to  take  a  fresh  look  at  your  life  insur- 
ance coverage.  How  long  since  you  took  a  critical  look 
at  your  own  life  insurance  program  ?  For  helpful  ad- 
vice, without  obligation,  consult  your  friendly  Beneficial 
Life  Insurance  counselor. 


Your  Beneficial 
Agent 

has  had  special  training 
and  years  of  experience 
that  will  help  him  evalu- 
ate your  life  insurance 
program  in  terms  of 
your  present  needs.  For 
competent  counsel,  call 
him    soon. 


BENEFICIAL  LIFE 


a 


[David  O.  McKay,  Pres. 


Salt  Lake  City,  Utah 


"■"'s*;*!'!**"1'" 


cJke  cJhtngs  ta    Ljou  o/  See 

Dorothy  J.  Roberts 

A  silvered  link  to  the  past, 

You  hold 

In  quiet  testament 

The  essence,  gathered  within  your  life, 

Of  its  crystal,  of  its  gold, 

Its  long,  sweet  labor,  its  frugal  joys, 

Its  hand-sewn  treasures, 

Its  country  grace, 

Its  warmth  that  mellowed  the  fields  and  heart, 

And  lit  your  face. 

These  are  the  things  in  you  I  see: 

The  past,  distilled. 

Its  goodness,  its  sweetness  spilled 

Into  the  depths  of  me. 


The  Cover:  Casa  Loma,  Toronto,  Canada 

Photograph  submitted  by  Leah  H.  Lewis 

Frontispiece:   Saxifrage  Blossoms 

Photograph  by  Ward  Linton 

Cover  Design  by  Evan  Jensen 


CJroni    I  i 


ear  an 


d  CJar 


I  low  grateful  I  feel  as  I  take  a  moment 
off  to  write  you  this  letter.  It  is  just  a 
few  heartfelt  thanks  for  the  spiritual  up- 
lift which  has  come  to  me  from  the 
Magazine,  which  I  have  been  acquainted 
with  throughout  my  life.  My  mother  has 
been  a  faithful  member  of  Relief  Society, 
and  the  marvelous  Magazine  has  never 
failed  to  appear  in  our  home  ....  I  have 
always  had  a  personal  interest  in  it  because 
of  articles  and  stories  written  by  my  aunt 
(Fay  Ollerton  Tarlock).  This  past  sum- 
mer I  was  called  to  the  Rarotonga  Dis- 
trict of  the  Samoan  Mission.  Later  my 
companion  and  I  were  called  to  open  the 
island  of  Atiu,  of  the  Cook  Islands  group 
....  Out  here  we  are  six  hundred  miles 
from  our  president  .  .  .  and  we  often  need 
to  turn  to  what  written  material  we  have, 
and  The  Improvement  Era  and  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine.  Bereft  of  news  from 
home  and  advice  from  the  supervising 
elders,  the  spiritual  gain  from  these  maga- 
zines is  of  great  importance. 

—Elder  Carl  A.  Ollerton 
Rarotonga,  Cook  Islands 

I  receive  The  Relief  Society  Magazine 
and  enjoy  it  very  much,  as  I  enjoy  Relief 
Society  itself.  Just  finished  reading  the 
article  on  planning  a  Family  Hour  (March 
1956)  by  Helen  Gardner,  and  was  happy 
to  obtain  some  new  ideas.  My  thanks  for 
the  help  and  pleasure  I  get  from  the 
Magazine. 

■ — Kathryn  Tanner 

Woodland  Hills,  California 

I  feel  I  would  like  to  write  to  say  how 
much  I  appreciate  your  wonderful  little 
book.  A  very  dear  cousin  of  my  moth- 
er's —  Mrs.  A.  S.  Keetch  of  Logan,  Utah, 
makes  it  her  Christmas  gift,  and  she  has 
sent  it  for  a  number  of  years.  After  my 
mother  has  read  it,  she  passes  it  on  to  me 
and,  although  not  members  of  your 
Church,  we  find  a  great  deal  of  pleasure 
and  joy  in  its  many  interesting  articles. 

— R.  Caldwell 

Loughborough 

Leicestershire 

England 

Page  282 


I  do  enjov  The  Relief  Society  Maga- 
zine. The  stories  are  wonderful,  and  I 
am  so  glad  for  the  lessons  as  they  have 
helped  verv  much  here  in  our  small 
branch  in  the  Central  States  Mission.  We 
have  one  hundred  per  cent  of  our  work- 
ers taking  the  Magazine  and  all  of  them 
think  it  is  wonderful.  It  is  a  verv  nice 
way  to  preach  the  gospel  to  those  who 
know  so  little  about  The  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  of  Latter-dav  Saints. 
-Mary  }'.  Hatch 

Hot  Springs,  Arkansas 

I  think  The  Relief  Society  Magazine  is 
the  best  magazine  offered  by  the  Church, 
and  by  the  world,  for  that  matter. 
— Evangeline  Baddley 
McKinnon,  Wyoming 

I  have  not  seen  my  sister  Walla  WTagner 
since  I  was  three  years  old,  and  then  I 
noticed  her  picture  with  the  Dublan 
Ward  group,  Juarez  Stake,  in  the  Maga- 
zine for  February  1956,  page  121,  and 
wrote  this  poem  as  the  thoughts  came 
to  me: 

There  was  such  joy  in  my  heart  today; 

As  I  leafed  through  the  Magazine, 

My  eyes  scanned  the  stories  and  went  on 

away 
To  the  articles,  poetry,  lessons  .... 

O'er  the  pages  I  scanned  on  my  way  to 
the  back, 

But  I  stopped  —  it  was  something  fa- 
miliar— 

My  birthplace  was  written  so  large  and 
so  black, 

I  have  not  often  seen  it  so  written. 

My  dear  gospel  sisters,  all  thirtv-one  stood, 
As  I  read  the  names  written  below — 
There  was   in  the  picture  one  that's   my 

own   blood — 
I've  not  seen  her  in  twenty-six  years 

I  hadn't  so  much  as  a  picture  yet  seen, 
Of  my  dear  sister  so  far  away — 
I   thank   our   old   standby,   the   Magazine, 
For  giving  this  privilege  to  me. 
— Lela  Graves 

Anaheim,  California 


THE  RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 

Monthly  Publication   of   the  Relief    Society   of   The   Church   of   Jesus   Christ  of   Latter-day    Saints 

RELIEF  SOCIETY  GENERAL  BOARD 

Belle  S.  Spafford         - 

Marianne   C.   Sharp  - 

Velma  N.  Simonsen  - 

Margaret  C.  Pickering  - 


Anna  B.  Hart 
Edith  S.  Elliott 
Florence  J.  Madsen 
Leone  G.  Layton 
Blanche  B.  Stoddard 


Editor    - 
Associate  Editor 
General  Manager 


Evon  W.  Peterson 
Louise  W.  Madsen 
Aleine  M.  Young 
Josie  B.  Bay 
Christine  H.  Robinson 


-         -         -         -         President 

-         -         -         -         First  Counselor 

Second  Counselor 

-  Secretary-Treasurer 

Alberta  H.  Christensen      Edith  P.  Backman 
Mildred  B.  Eyring 


Helen  W.  Anderson 
Gladys  S.  Boyer 
Charlotte  A.  Larsen 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE 


Winniefred  S. 
Man-waring 
Elna  P.  Haymond 
Annie  M.  Ellsworth 
Mary   R.    Young 

Marianne  C.  Sharp 

Vesta  P.   Crawlord 

Belle    S.    Spafford 


Vol.  43 


MAY    1956 


e 


on  tents 


No.  5 


SPECIAL  FEATURES 

Dedication  of  the  Los  Angeles  Temple  285 

Rewards   for  Activity  in  the  Church  Thorpe   B.   Isaacson  286 

The  Canadian  Mission  Preston  R.   Nibley  290 

Contest   Announcements  —    1956   292 

Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest 292 

Relief  Society  Short  Story   Contest   293 

Poetry   Is    for   People   Eva    Willes    Wangsgaard  294 

Cheerfulness  Is  Always  Right  Annie   S.    W.   Gould  297 

So  You  Want  to  Write  a  Story!  Frances  C.  Yost  298 

My   Legacy   Margaret   S.    Fife  340 

Repentance Kate    Richards    341 

Silver  Spoons   Manila    C.    Cook  342 

FICTION 

Who  Sings  the  Lullaby  Rosa  Lee  Lloyd  302 

The  Perfect  Gift  Mabel  Law  Atkinson  318 

There  Is  Still  Time  —  Chapter  4  Margery  S.   Stewart  320 

GENERAL  FEATURES 

From  Near  and  Far  282 

Sixty   Years  Ago  310 

Woman's  Sphere  Ramona  W.   Cannon  311 

Editorial:   The  Gift  for  Mother's  Day  Marianne  C.   Sharp  312 

Notes  to  the  Field:   Program  for  the  November  Fast  Sunday  Evening  Meeting  313 

A  Centenary  of  Relief  Society  Out  of  Print  313 

Review  Outline   for  May    1956   Literature    Lesson   314 

New  Serial   "Heart's  Bounty"   to   Begin   in   June    315 

Magazine    Subscriptions    for    1955 Marianne    C.    Sharp  326 

The  Magazine  Honor  Roll  for   1955  330 

Notes   From   the   Field:    Relief  Society  Activities   Margaret   C.    Pickering  334 

FEATURES  FOR  THE  HOME 

Recipes   From  the   Canadian   Mission  Leah   H.   Lewis  316 

Mary  Ann  Hyde  Mortenson  Makes  Wedding  Cakes  of  Intricate  Design  317 

A  Rug  in  Dutch  Butter  Mold  Design  Elizabeth  Williamson  339 

POETRY 

The  Things  in  You  I  See — Frontispiece  Dorothy   J.    Roberts  281 

Gift   of    Spring    Gene    Romolo  289 

Song  From  the   Rim  of   Silence   Elsie   McKinnon   Strachan  301 

Love's  Foliage  Maude    Rubin  309 

Hidden  Valley   Ethel    Jacobson  309 

Never  in  Triteness  Iris  W.    Schow  316 

For  My  Mother  Christie   Lund  Coles  341 


PUBLISHED  MONTHLY  BY  THE  GENERAL  BOARD  OF  RELIEF  SOCIETY 

Editorial  and  Business  Offices:  40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  1,  Utah,  Phone  4-2511;  Sub- 
scriptions 246;  Editorial  Dept.  245.  Subscription  Price:  $1.50  a  year;  foreign,  $2.00  a  year; 
payable  in  advance.  Single  copy,  15c.  The  Magazine  is  not  sent  after  subscription  expires.  No 
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The  Magazine  is  not  responsible  for  unsolicited  manuscripts. 


Hal  Rumel 


Page  284 


THE  LOS  ANGELES  TEMPLE,  CALIFORNIA 


'^Dedication  of  the  JLos  uLngeles  cJemple 

npIIE  Los  Angeles  Temple,  rising  in  beauty  on  a  sloping  hill  adorned 
with  olive  trees,  palms,  flowers,  and  a  reflecting  pool,  is  the  twelfth 
temple  built  during  the  dispensation  of  the  fulness  of  times.  Contrasting 
the  conditions  surrounding  the  building  of  the  first  temple— the  Kirtland 
Temple— which  was  dedicated  in  March  1836,  and  that  of  this  twelfth  one, 
offer  striking  differences  which  reflect  the  history  of  the  Church  which  the 
Lord  foretold  as  "the  rising  up  and  the  coming  forth  of  my  church  out  of 
the  wilderness— clear  as  the  moon,  and  fair  as  the  sun,  and  terrible  as  an 
army  with  banners''  (D.  &  C.  5:14).  The  Los  Angeles  Temple,  previous 
to  its  dedication,  was  visited  by  662,401  persons.  All  were  welcomed  and 
preserved  a  reverential  silence  as  they  viewed  this  edifice  erected  to  the 
Lord  by  his  restored  Church  to  bring  salvation  and  exaltation  to  both  the 
living  and  dead  that  the  earth  might  not  be  utterly  wasted  at  the  Lord's 
second  coming. 

President  McKay  personally  offered  the  inspiring  dedicatory  prayer  at 
each  of  the  eight  sessions  of  the  dedication.  Each  service  was  an  impressive 
and  moving  experience  and  a  spiritual  feast  to  those  privileged  to  attend 
the  different  sessions,  estimated  to  be  a  total  of  about  40,000  persons. 

The  monetary  contributions  of  the  saints  of  Southern  California  ex- 
ceeded one  million  and  six  hundred  thousand  dollars.  The  general  Church 
membership,  however,  through  their  tithes  and  offerings  partook  of  the 
blessings  and  shared  in  the  joy  of  accomplishment. 


Page  285 


Rewards  for  Activity  in  the  Church 


Bishop  Thorpe  B.  Isaacson 
Of  the  Presiding  Bishopric 


IT  has  been  well  stated  that  the 
things  of  greatest  value  in  life 
are  those  that  multiply  when 
divided.  The  rewards  of  greatest 
worth  are  the  ones  that  endure  and 
bring  not  only  immediate  satisfac- 
tion but  eternal  joys. 

Of  material  wealth,  it  is  necessary 
to  get  and  keep  in  order  to  have, 
but  the  accumulation  of  the  riches 
of  heaven  comes  about  through  un- 
selfish giving  and  serving.  In  sharing 
our  thoughts  with  others  they  there- 
by become  our  own.  Our  testi- 
monies grow  stronger  as  we  express 
them  in  word  or  in  action.  Our 
feeling  of  appreciation  grows 
through  our  expressions  of  apprecia- 
tion. 

Jesus  taught  that  service  and 
obedience  to  the  laws  of  truth  are 
the  keys  to  happiness  and  that  hap- 
piness is  the  desire  of  all  men.  We 
should  read  frequently  the  inspired 
words  of  Nephi,  "Adam  fell  that 
men  might  be;  and  men  are,  that 
they  might  have  joy"  (2  Nephi 
2:25). 

Happiness  can  be  found  only 
where  it  exists,  and  those  who  would 
have  it  must  pay  its  price.  Many 
seek  blindly  for  eternal  satisfactions 
along  the  byways  of  sin  where  they 
do  not  exist.  Some  expect  the  re- 
wards of  heaven  and  life  without 
the  willingness  to  pay  the  inevitable 
price.  Others  are  satisfied  with 
cheap  substitutes  that  furnish  mo- 
mentary pleasure  but  have  no  last- 
ing values.  To  leave  the  blazoned 
trail  of  life  in  search  of  shortcuts 

Page  286 


that  do  not  exist  is  to  transgress  the 
laws  of  God  and  cut  ourselves  off 
from  the  very  rewards  for  which  we 
yearn. 

'There  is  a  law,  irrevocably  de- 
creed in  heaven  before  the  founda- 
tions of  this  world,  upon  which  all 
blessings  are  predicated— 

'And  when  we  obtain  any  bless- 
ing from  God,  it  is  by  obedience  to 
that  law  upon  which  it  is  predi- 
cated" (D.  &  C.  130:20-21). 

There  are  some  in  the  world 
whose  eyes  are  closed  to  the  true 
values  and  purposes  of  life.  Their 
whole  time  is  dedicated  to  the  quest 
for  wealth,  pleasure,  or  power.  They 
think  of  the  dollar  and  its  pleasure 
potential  as  the  end  of  life  rather 
than  to  think  of  wealth  as  a  means 
to  the  greater  end  of  happiness 
through  service  to  others.  They  seek 
wealth  for  wealth's  sake  rather  than 
to  think  of  its  possession  as  a  power 
potential  for  building  the  kingdom 
of  God  and  for  serving  our  fellow 
man. 

Activity  in  The  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  of  Latter-day  Saints  is  serv- 
ice of  the  highest  order.  Its  assured 
rewards  are  satisfaction  and  happi- 
ness here  and  exaltation  in  the  king- 
dom of  our  Father. 

Activity  in  the  Church,  to  be  ef- 
fective, must  be  characterized  by 
unselfish  devotion.  The  Lord  in 
revelation  makes  this  very  clear. 

And  no  one  can  assist  in  this  work  ex- 
cept he  shall  be  humble  and  full  of  love, 
having  faith,  hope  and  charity,  being  tem- 
perate in  all  things,  whatsoever  shall  be 
entrusted  to  his  care  (D.  &  C.  12:8). 


REWARDS  FOR  ACTIVITY  IN  THE  CHURCH 


287 


The  chief  concern  of  the  earnest 
Church  worker  is  for  the  welfare 
and  happiness  of  others.  Each  as- 
signment filled  is  a  source  of  satis- 
faction. Each  new  task  is  a  joyous 
adventure.  To  him  activity  in  the 
Church  is,  in  a  measure,  its  own  re- 
ward. The  immediate  feelings  of 
accomplishment  from  the  service 
rendered  are  well  worth  the  effort 
expended.  The  promised  future  re- 
wards are  extra  bonuses  or  surplus 
dividends. 

The  law  of  compensation  is  at 
work  in  the  world.  We  reap  as  we 
sow.  Obedience  to  law  invariably 
brings  immediate  or  deferred  bless- 
ings. Transgression  of  the  laws  just 
as  surely  results  in  suffering  and  sor- 
row. 

Salvation  comes  no  cheaper  to 
one  than  to  another.  We  cannot 
hope  for  blessings  equal  to  those 
earned  by  the  pioneers  with  their 
many  hardships  and  trials  without 
diligence  and  obedience  to  funda- 
mental principles  equal  to  theirs. 
Wc  may  not  be  called  to  die  for  the 
gospel,  nor  to  leave  our  homes,  our 
families,  or  our  friends.  We  may 
never  be  required  to  go  cold  or 
hungry  or  to  face  the  dangers  of 
the  plains  as  they  chose  to  do.  We 
must,  however,  be  willing  to  pay 
the  price  and  prove  our  willingness 
through  service  and  sacrifice  of  a 
different  nature,  if  we  would  have 
divine  rewards  equal  to  theirs. 

HPHE  Church  is  the  organization 
set  up  by  the  Lord  through 
which  he  brings  salvation  to  his  chil- 
dren. Through  the  Church,  oppor- 
tunities for  service  are  offered  to  all 
who  will  accept.  The  reward  for 
such  service  is  salvation  which 
comes  in  direct  proportion  to  the 


quantity  and  quality  of  the  service 
rendered. 

There  are  three  distinct  divisions 
of  Church  activity.  Each  division 
offers  many  opportunities  for  serv- 
ice, and  ultimate  salvation  depends 
upon  our  active  participation  in 
each  of  them.  We  might  classify 
these  three  fields  of  Church  activity 
as  that  which  we  do  for  our  own  ad- 
vancement, that  which  we  do  for 
the  spiritual  and  temporal  welfare 
of  our  fellow  men,  and  the  service 
we  render  for  those  who  are  in  the 
world  of  departed  spirits. 

There  are  personal  obligations 
that  each  individual  has  for  his  own 
welfare.  He  should  seek  truth 
through  study  and  prayer.  He  should 
repent  of  weaknesses  and  transgres- 
sions. He  should  submit  himself 
for  baptism  of  water  and  of  the 
spirit.  He  should  listen  and  heed 
the  promptings  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
He  should  build  a  strong  body  by 
strict  obedience  to  the  laws  of 
phvsical  health  that  have  been  re- 
vealed from  God.  He  should  en- 
large his  mental  capacities  through 
study.  He  should  expand  his  abil- 
ity to  enjoy  the  association  of  oth- 
ers. He  should  partake  freely  and 
frequently  of  that  which  gives 
growth  to  the  spirit.  There  are 
fundamental  obligations  of  obedi- 
ence that  each  individual  must  ad- 
here to  if  he  would  have  the  bless- 
ings of  the  gospel.  Jesus,  in  direct- 
ing his  disciples  to  preach  the  gos- 
pel to  every  creature,  said:  "He  that 
believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be 
saved;  but  he  that  believeth  not 
shall  be  damned"  (Mark  16:16). 

Recently  a  Senior  Member  of  the 
Aaronic  Priesthood  who  had  been 
long    inactive    in    the    Church    ex- 


288 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MAY  1956 


pressed  to  a  group  of  friends  the 
wonderful  joy  that  had  come  into 
his  life  through  again  becoming  ac- 
tive in  the  Church.  Tears  welled 
up  in  his  eyes  and  his  voice  faltered 
as  he  told  of  his  past  life  and  the 
mistakes  he  had  made.  For  years 
he  had  not  kept  the  Word  of  Wis- 
dom. There  had  been  no  prayer 
nor  religious  interest  in  his  home. 
There  had  been  frequent  marital 
misunderstandings.  There  had  been 
lack  of  family  loyalty.  There  had 
been  no  real  objective  in  life.  Each 
day  was  just  another  day,  without 
purpose. 

"And  now/'  he  said,  "through 
study  and  secret  prayer,  I  have  re- 
ceived a  conviction,  an  inner  as- 
surance that  God  is  our  Father,  that 
we  live  beyond  the  grave,  and  that 
I  may  have  my  wife  and  family  for 
eternity.  This  testimony  is  worth 
more  to  me  than  the  riches  of  the 
world.  It  has  given  me  inner  peace 
and  comfort  that  I  could  get  in  no 
other  way.  My  health  is  better  be- 
cause I  now  live  the  Lord's  laws  of 
health.  As  a  family  we  now  love 
and  enjoy  each  other  as  we  never 
did  before.  We  study,  pray,  and 
grow  together.  Life  has  taken  on 
new  meaning  and  purpose.  I  feel 
now  that  I  am  guided  by  an  inner 
light.  I  pay  my  tithing  and  enjoy 
doing  it.  All  this  and  more,  too, 
because  I  washed  the  windows  of 
my  soul  so  that  the  light  of  faith 
could  shine  in.  I  repented  of  my 
sins  so  that  I  could  have  a  remis- 
sion of  them  through  my  baptism  of 
water  and  the  Holy  Ghost  which 
were  performed  for  me  many  years 
ago." 

As  he  bore  his  testimony,  there 
seemed  to  be  a  heavenly  glow  upon 


his  face.  "Just  think,"  he  said,  "the 
promises  and  blessings  that  obedi- 
ence to  the  simple  principles  of  the 
gospel  have  brought  into  my  life. 
Imagine,  Mary  and  the  children, 
mine  forever,  and  it  all  depends  on 
me. 

The  rewards  of  individual  obedi- 
ence are  many  and  wonderful. 

AS  members  of  the  Church  we 
have  an  obligation  to  look  to 
the  physical  and  spiritual  needs  of 
others.  Ours  is  a  missionary  Church. 
Those  who  have  been  on  missions 
know  of  the  rewards  that  come  as 
the  result  of  missionary  service. 
Satisfaction  is  a  sure  reward  that 
comes  to  those  who  teach  the  gos- 
pel to  others  and  who  alleviate  the 
pains  and  lighten  the  burdens  of 
their  neighbors. 

Two  women,  one  afternoon,  stood 
in  the  bedroom  of  a  very  humble 
home.  In  the  bed  was  a  frail  little 
mother.  At  her  side  was  a  sick 
child.  Two  other  children  played 
on  the  floor  at  the  side  of  the  bed. 
The  women  had  just  cleaned  up 
the  house  and  had  served  a  nourish- 
ing meal  to  the  little  family.  A 
box  of  groceries  had  been  put  on 
the  table.  The  faces  of  the  women 
reflected  sympathy  and  love.  Their 
eyes  were  filled  with  happy  tears  as 
they  saw  the  look  of  appreciation 
on  the  face  of  the  sick  mother.  This 
scene  or  similar  ones  arc  enacted 
many  times  every  day  throughout 
the  Church,  and  words  cannot  de- 
scribe the  joy  that  comes  from  such 
service.  Yea,  they  are  rewarded  who 
teach  and  serve  their  fellow  men. 

The  third  obligation  of  Church 
membership  is  to  do  work  for  those 
who   are   dead.     From   the   revela- 


REWARDS  FOR  ACTIVITY  IN  THE  CHURCH 


289 


tions  of  the  Lord  we  can  well  under- 
stand the  dependence  that  they 
who  are  in  the  spirit  world  place 
upon  us  who  arc  mortal  beings. 
Many  of  them  are  anxious  to  be 
baptized  and  receive  the  Holy 
Ghost.  This  they  cannot  do  for 
themselves.  They  are  dependent 
upon  those  still  living  to  do  this 
work  for  them.  Many  of  them,  no 
doubt,  love  those  who  were  their 
mates  in  mortal  life  but  whose  mar- 
riage contracts  and  vows  came  to 
an  end  when  death  parted  them. 
In  order  to  have  them  for  eternity, 
their  endowments  and  sealings  must 
be  performed  vicariously  for  them. 
Their  dependence  upon  mortals  is 
an  opportunity  for  great  service.  To 
be  baptized,  ordained,  endowed,  or 
sealed  for  one  who  is  dead  is  a  privi- 
lege and  a  blessing.  To  contem- 
plate the  joy  that  such  service  in- 
sures for  the  ones  in  whose  favor  it 
is  given  is  a  source  of  satisfaction. 
These  immediate  rewards  are  worth- 
while  in   and   of   themselves,   but 


when  we  meet  the  benefactors  of 
our  vicarious  ministrations  face  to 
face  and  receive  their  personal  ex- 
pressions of  appreciation  for  the 
service  we  have  rendered,  we  will 
indeed  feel  rewarded  for  our  efforts. 
Yes,  many  and  great  are  the  bless- 
ings that  come  from  activity  in  the 
Church.  To  be  active  is  to  have 
the  abundant  life. 

And  all  saints  who  remember  to  keep 
and  do  these  sayings,  walking  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  commandments,  shall  receive 
health  in  their  navel  and  marrow  to  their 
bones; 

And  shall  find  wisdom  and  great  treas- 
ures of  knowledge,  even  hidden  treasures; 

And  shall  run  and  not  be  weary,  and 
shall  walk  and  not  faint. 

And  I,  the  Lord,  give  unto  them  a 
promise,  that  the  destroying  angel  shall 
pass  by  them,  as  the  children  of  Israel, 
and  not  slay  them  (D.  &  C.  89:18-21). 

Remember  well  the  promised  re- 
wards for  activity  in  the  Church. 
Forget  not  the  Lord's  supreme 
award  for  faithfulness:  ".  .  .  all  that 
my  Father  hath  shall  be  given  unto 
him"  (D.&C.  84:38). 


\£ift  of  Spring 

Gene  Romolo 

The  prisoning,  icy  fastness  of  the  winter 
Touched  by  the  potent,  magic  wand  of  spring 
Has  vanished.  There  is  not  left,  of  it,  a  splinter. 
Golden  gossamer  envelops  everything. 

Through  the  great  expanse  of  earth  is  flowering 
New  life  that  wells  with  each  recurring  year, 
And  sentient  husbandmen,  with  zeal  are  sowing 
Ripe  seeds  from  which  rich  harvests  will  appear. 

Spring  brings  the  gift  of  faith  for  our  receiving  . 
The  fault  is  ours  if  we  go  unbelieving. 


cJhe  v^anadtan   1 1 itsst 


tsston 


Pieston  R.  Nibley 

|7 ASTERN  Canada  is  one  of  the  earliest  missionary  fields  of  the  Church. 
The  first  missionaries  to  cross  the  border  from  the  United  States  were 
Joseph  Young,  Phineas  Young,  Eleazer  Miller,  and  Elial  Strong,  who,  in 
the  summer  of  1832,  established  a  branch  of  the  Church  at  Ernestown, 
Ontario.  In  December  1832,  Joseph  Young  and  his  brother  Brigham 
(who  became  the  great  pioneer  President)  established  a  second  branch 
in  Ontario,  located  at  West  Loboro. 

In  1836,  Parley  P.  Pratt,  by  special  appointment,  began  missionary 
work  in  and  near  Toronto,  Canada.  There  he  made  several  notable  con- 
verts, including  John  Taylor,  who  later  became  the  third  President  of  the 
Church,  Joseph  and  Mary  Isabella  Home,  Joseph  Fielding  and  his  sisters 
Mary  and  Mercy.  Mary  Fielding  later  married  Hyrum  Smith  and  became 
the  mother  of  President  Joseph  Fielding  Smith. 

The  Prophet  Joseph  Smith,  accompanied  by  Thomas  B.  Marsh,  vis- 
ited the  branches  of  the  Church,  in  and  near  Toronto,  in  the  spring  of 
1837.  Elder  John  Taylor  took  them  in  his  carriage  to  visit  the  various 
branches.    Of  this  experience  he  wrote:    'This  was  as  great  a  treat  to  me 


Courtesy  New  Brunswick  Travel  Bureau 

ARTS  BUILDING  AT  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  NEW  BRUNSWICK 

Oldest  University  Building  in  Use  in  Canada 

Page  290 


THE  CANADIAN  MISSION 


291 


Photograph  submitted  by  J.  Melvin  Toone 

HORSESHOE  FALLS  ON  THE  CANADIAN  SIDE  OF  THE 

NIAGARA  RIVER 


as  I  ever  enjoyed.    I  had  daily  opportunity  of  listening  to  the  rich  store  of 
intelligence  that  flowed  continually  from  the  Prophet  Joseph." 

After  the  removal  of  the  Latter-day  Saints  to  the  West  in  the  fall  of 
1847,  most  of  the  members  in  Canada  emigrated  to  Utah.  Missionary 
work  there  was  carried  on  by  the  Eastern  States  Mission  until  April  1919, 
when  the  Canadian  Mission  was  organized,  with  Nephi  Jensen  of  Salt 
Lake  City  as  the  first  president.  A  house  was  secured  at  36  Ferndale 
Avenue,  Toronto,  which  for  many  years  served  as  the  mission  headquarters. 

In  1930  there  were  1,232  members  of  the  Church  in  the  Canadian 
Mission.  In  December  1955  this  number  had  increased  to  3,309,  located 
in  34  branches.  J.  Earl  Lewis  is  the  present  president  of  the  Canadian 
Mission.  There  were  twenty-two  Relief  Society  organizations  reported 
in  December  1955.  Leah  Henrichsen  Lewis  presides  over  the  Relief  So- 
ciety of  the  Canadian  Mission. 


Contest  Announcements — 1956 


CONTESTS  CLOSE  AUGUST  15,  1956 

THE  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest  and  the  Relief  Society  Short  Story 
Contest  are  conducted  annually  by  the  general  board  of  Relief  So- 
ciety to  stimulate  creative  writing  among  Latter-day  Saint  women 
and  to  encourage  high  standards  of  work.     Latter-day  Saint  women  who 
qualify  under  the  rules  of  the  respective  contests  are  invited  to  enter  their 
work  in  either  or  both  contests. 

The  general  board  would  be  pleased  to  receive  entries  from  the  out- 
lying stakes  and  missions  of  the  Church  as  well  as  from  those  in  and  near 
Utah.  Since  the  two  contests  are  entirely  separate,  requiring  different  writ- 
ing skills,  the  winning  of  an  award  in  one  of  them  in  no  way  precludes 
winning  in  the  other.  It  is  suggested  that  authors  who  plan  to  enter  the 
contests  study  carefully  the  articles  on  story  writing  and  poetry  which  ap- 
pear in  this  Magazine  and  similar  articles  in  the  May  issue,  1955,  and  in 
the  June  issues  for  the  preceding  nine  years. 

vbliza  IR.  Snow  [Poem   Contest 

HpHE  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Contest       Relief    Society    general    board    and    em- 

1    opens  with  this  announcement      Plo>^  °f  the  Relief  Society  general  board. 
,    \  A  ^       -r>  •  2-  Only  one  poem  may  be  submitted  by 

and  closes  August  15,  1956.    Prizes      each  contestant. 

will  be  awarded  as  follows:  3.   The  poem   must  not   exceed   fifty 

First  prize  $25  lines   and   should  be   typewritten,   if  pos- 

Second  prize                      $20  sible;    where    this    cannot    be    done,    it 

mi  •    1        •                            £  should  be  legibly  written.     Only  one  side 

imrci  prize         $15  of  the  paper  is  tQ  be  used    ^A  duplicate 

Prize  poems  will  be  published  in      copy  0f  thc  pocm  should  be  retained  by 

the  January   1957  issue  of  The  Re-       contestants  to  insure  against  loss.) 

Jief   Society    Magazine    (the   birth  4-  The  shcct  on  which  thc  Pocm  is 

month  of  Eliza  R.  Snow ) .  w/ltt,c"  is  t0  bc1  wltll0Llt  si§naturc  or  other 

~  .  .       .  ,  '  .,  identifying  marks. 

Prize-wmmng  poems  become  the  5    No  expianatory  matenal  or  picture 

property  of  the  Relief  Society  gen-  is  to  accompany  the  poem, 

eral    board    and    may    not   be   pub-  6.  Each  poem  is  to  be  accompanied  by 

lished  by  Others   except  upon  writ-  a  stamped  envelope  on  which  is  written 

J    .     .          f             ,i                     i  the  contestant  s  name  and  address.     Norn 

ten    permission    from    the    general  de  plumes  are  not  t0  be  used, 

board.     The  general  board  reserves  y>  a  signed  statement  is  to  accompany 

the  right  to  publish  any  of  the  Other  the  pocm  submitted,  certifying: 

poems  submitted,  paying  for  them  a.  That  the  author  is  a  member  of  The 

at   the   time   of   publication   at   the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day 

regular  Magazine  rates.  '  . . 

b  b  b.  That    the     poem     (state     title)     is 

the  contestant's  original  work. 

Rules  for  the  contest:  c.  That  it  has  never  been  published. 

d.  That  it   is  not   in   the   hands   of  an 

1.  This  contest  is  open  to  all  Latter-day  editor  or  other  person  with  a  view 

Saint  women,  exclusive  of  members  of  the  to  publication. 

Page  292 


CONTEST  ANNOUNCEMENTS— 1956 


293 


e.  That  it  will  not  be  published  nor 
submitted  elsewhere  for  publication 
until  the  contest  is  decided. 

8.  A  writer  who  has  received  the  first 
prize  for  two  consecutive  years  must  wait 
two  years  before  she  is  again  eligible  to 
enter  the  contest. 

9.  The  judges  shall  consist  of  one  mem- 
ber of  the  general  board,  one  person  from 
the  English  department  of  an  educational 
institution,  and  one  person  who  is  a 
recognized  writer.  In  case  of  complete  dis- 
agreement among  judges,  all  poems  select- 
ed for  a  place  by  the  various  judges  will  be 
submitted  to  a  specially  selected  commit- 
tee for  final  decision. 


In  evaluating  the  poems,  consideration 
will  be  given  to  the  following  points: 

a.  Message  or  theme 

b.  Form  and  pattern 

c.  Rhythm  and  meter 

d.  Accomplishment  of  the  pur- 
pose of  the  poem 

e.  Climax 

10.  Entries  must  be  postmarked  not 
later  than  August  15,  1956. 

11.  All  entries  are  to  be  addressed  to 
Relief  Society  Eliza  R.  Snow  Poem  Con- 
test, 40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  16, 
Utah. 


[Relief  Society  Short  Story  Looniest 


HPHE   Relief  Society  Short  Story 
Contest   for    1956   opens   with 
this  announcement  and  closes  Aug- 
ust 15,  1956. 

The  prizes  this  year  will  be  as 
follows : 

First  prize  $50 

Second  prize $40 

Third  prize  $30 

The  three  prize-winning  stories 
will  be  published  consecutively  in 
the  first  three  issues  of  The  Relief 
Society  Magazine  for  1956.  Prize- 
winning  stories  become  the  property 
of  the  Relief  Society  general  board 
and  may  not  be  published  by  others 
except  upon  written  permission 
from  the  general  board.  The  general 
board  reserves  the  right  to  publish 
any  of  the  other  stories  entered  in 
the  contest,  paying  for  them  at  the 
time  of  publication  at  the  regular 
Magazine  rates. 

Rules  for  the  contest: 

1.  This  contest  is  open  to  Latter-day 
Saint  women — exclusive  of  members  of 
the  Relief  Society  general  board  and  em- 
ployees of  the  general  board — who   have 


had  at  least  one  literary  composition  pub- 
lished or  accepted  for  publication. 

2.  Only  one  story  may  be  submitted  by 
each  contestant. 

3.  The  story  must  not  exceed  3,000 
words  in  length  and  must  be  typewritten. 
(A  duplicate  copy  of  the  story  should  be 
retained  by  contestants  to  insure  against 
loss.) 

4.  The  contestant's  name  is  not  to  ap- 
pear anywhere  on  the  manuscript,  but  a 
stamped  envelope  on  which  is  written 
the  contestant's  name  and  address  is  to  be 
enclosed  with  the  story.  Nom  de  plumes 
are  not  to  be  used. 

5.  A  signed  statement  is  to  accompany 
the  story  submitted  certifying: 

a.  That  the  author  is  a  member  of  The 
Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter-day 
Saints. 

b.  That  the  author  has  had  at  least  one 
literary  composition  published  or  ac- 
cepted for  publication.  (This  state- 
ment must  give  name  and  date  of 
publication  in  which '  the  contest- 
ant's work  has  appeared,  or,  if  not 
yet  published,  evidence  of  accept- 
ance for  publication.) 

c.  That  the  story  submitted  (state  the 
title  and  number  of  words)  is  the 
contestant's  original  work. 

d.  That  it  has  never  been  published, 
that  it  is  not  in  the  hands  of  an 
editor  or  other  person  with  a  view 
to  publication,  and  that  it  will  not 
be    published    nor    submitted    else- 


294 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MAY  1956 


where  for  publication  until  the  con- 
test is  decided. 

6.  No  explanatory  material  or  picture  is 
to  accompany  the  story. 

7.  A  writer  who  has  received  the  first 
prize  for  two  consecutive  years  must  wait 
for  two  years  before  she  is  again  eligible 
to  enter  the  contest. 

8.  The  judges  shall  consist  of  one  mem- 
ber of  the  general  board,  one  person  from 
the  English  department  of  an  educational 
institution,  and  one  person  who  is  a  re- 
cognized writer.  In  case  of  complete  dis- 
agreement among  the  judges,  all  stories  se- 


lected for  a  place  by  the  various  judges 
will  be  submitted  to  a  specially  selected 
committee  for  final  decision. 

In  evaluating  the  stories,  consideration 
will  be  given  to  the  following  points: 

a.  Characters   and   their   presentation 

b.  Plot  development 

c.  Message  of  the  story 

d.  Writing  style 

9.  Entries  must  be  postmarked  not  later 
than  August  15,  1956. 

10.  All  entries  are  to  be  addressed  to 
Relief  Society  Short  Story  Contest, 
40  North  Main,  Salt  Lake  City  16,  Utah. 


Poetry  Is  for  People 

Eva  Willes  Wangsgaard 


POETS  are  lovers  of  life.  The 
difference  between  poets  and 
other  lovers  is  that  they  are 
in  love  with  all  life,  not  just  a  single 
manifestation  of  it.  They  all  have 
their  creative  periods  and  their  fal- 
low periods.  All  people  are  poets 
at  times;  nobody  is  a  poet  all  the 
time. 

Poetry  is  made  of  sympathy,  com- 
passion, understanding,  observation, 
insight,  vision,  and  technique.  The 
more  of  these  attributes  any  poem 
encompasses,  the  more  "major"  it 
is.  A  poem  that  has  but  one  or 
two  is  minor  or  is  onlv  verse. 

How  much  you  see,  how  much 
you  know,  how  high  and  wide  your 
vision,  compassion,  and  understand- 
ing extend  is  beyond  my  powers  to 
increase.  They  are  integral  parts  of 
the  soul,  and  the  soul's  growth  is 
an  individual  responsibility.  I  can 
help  you  to  see  the  necessity  of  in- 
creasing observation,  and  observation 
covers  more  than  sight.  It  is  a  mat- 
ter of  using  all  the  senses  and  com- 


passion as  well.  It  can  be  trained, 
encouraged,  and  extended.  Also,  I 
can  help  make  you  aware  of  tech- 
nique. The  rest  relies  upon  how 
much  of  a  poet  you  really  are. 

Training  and  Practice 

Poetry  technique  is  more  exact- 
ing today  than  ever  before.  Com- 
petition is  keener.  Readers  are 
more  demanding.  But  you  should 
be  your  own  most  demanding  read- 
er. A  poem  is  so  intricate  a  thing 
that  the  best  help  a  student  can  re- 
ceive is  that  given  on  a  poem  by 
poem  basis  with  a  competent  and 
sympathetic  teacher.  Thus  faults 
are  underlined,  line  by  line,  word 
by  word,  letter  by  letter.  A  student 
is  taught  to  understand  the  effects 
of  vowel  sounds,  and  the  various 
effects  of  consonant  combinations. 
He  is  given  practice  on  verse  forms, 
verse  devices,  climaxes,  titles,  and 
endings.  Each  student  then  has 
his  attention  drawn  to  the  specific 
faults  and  can  concentrate  on  each 


POETRY  IS  FOR  PEOPLE 


295 


instead  of  wondering  dazedly  what 
ails  the  poem,  why  it  doesn't  "come 
off/'  He  studies  with  deep  con- 
centration, not  only  of  mind  but 
of  emotion  and  memory,  until  the 
loveliest,  the  truest  way  to  express 
the  feeling  and  idea  come  through. 
I  had  one  sonnet  I  worked  on  for 
four  years,  again  and  again,  before 
I  realized  that  the  difficulty  lay  with 
one  image  which  was  too  active  and 
was  therefore  foreign  to  the  mood 
of  the  poem  if  not  to  the  thought. 
When  I  sacrificed  that  image,  of 
which  I  was  so  fond,  and  substitut- 
ed one  that  fitted  the  "fruits"  I  had 
begun  with,  I  had  a  successful  son- 
net that  won  a  national  prize.  A 
really  fiue  poem  uses  all  a  poet's 
faculties,  thinking,  feeling,  till  the 
idea,  the  emotion,  and  the  finished 
poem  are  one  integrated  whole. 

The  Creative  Process 

Sometimes  the  process  is  so  auto- 
matic that  the  poet  is  not  aware 
of  the  effort.  Sometimes  it  is  a 
slow  and  arduous  task.  Sometimes 
it  eludes  the  creator  entirely  and 
waiting  is  the  only  answer.  But, 
always,  the  poem  must  be  more  im- 
portant at  the  moment  than  its  cre- 
ator's ego,  so  that  he  will  devote 
himself  to  its  perfection  without  re- 
sentment. 

Remember  that  whatever  any 
teacher  may  say  of  the  creative  pro- 
cess, it  may  not  necessarily  be  true 
of  all  poets  at  work,  nor  is  it  true 
every  time  with  any  one.  It  is  an 
intangible  thing  almost  impossible 
to  tether  and  control,  but  it  must 
be  channeled  to  get  the  best  results. 
Obviously,  what  we  say  is  wasted 
if  it  does  not  reach  the  reader. 
Reaching  the  reader  is  the  chief 
function  of  technique.   It  polishes 


the  idea,  cuts  it  to  perfection  for 
the  best  reflection  of  its  lights  and 
life,  and  makes  it  real  in  a  modern 
setting. 

The  Language  of  Poetry 

The  chief  ingredient  of  a  poem 
is  utter  honesty.  Good  technique 
will  abide  no  shams,  no  hollowness, 
no  antiquated,  outgrown  phrases.  It 
speaks  in  the  language  of  its  day. 
Since  we  would  not  use  expres- 
sions like  o'er,  ere,  'twill,  or  any 
other  affectation  from  grandmother's 
day  in  speech,  our  poems  will  ap- 
pear false  and  queer  if  such  appear 
therein,  as  queer  as  you  would  look 
if  you  went  shopping  in  grandmoth- 
er's leg-o-mutton  sleeves  and  velvet 
bonnet. 

The  Author  and  the  Poem 

Your  poem  must  be  vital.  It  must 
be  warm  with  life,  catch  a  moment 
of  drama,  and  hold  up  to  view  some 
new  interpretation  of  truth  or  wid- 
er vision.  It  must  have  something 
of  the  universal  so  that  others  can 
identify  the  experience  with  their 
own  and  relive  it  with  you,  and  it 
must  have  something  that  is  whol- 
ly you. 

You  come  through  your  poem  in 
many  ways.  It  tells  the  reader 
whether  you  are  a  positive  or  nega- 
tive thinker,  what  interests  you, 
whether  you  are  compassionate  or 
indifferent.  The  imagery  and  sub- 
ject matter  reflect  your  background, 
your  interests,  your  experiences,  and 
your  knowledge.  Usually,  for  in- 
stance, it  would  seem  false  for  a 
poet  to  describe  a  Utah  scene  that 
contains  a  nightingale  or  a  skylark. 
The  birds  that  fit  the  region  add  a 
note  of  authenticity  to  your  scene 
and  to  what  you  want  it  to  say.  The 


296 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MAY  1956 


wider  the  poet's  knowledge  of  all 
the  sources  from  which  he  draws 
his  images,  the  truer  they  are  and 
the  more  effective.  He  has  put  a 
bit  of  the  flavor  of  his  own  region 
into  it  and  created  something  new. 

A  Poet's  Preparation 

Therefore,  a  poet  extends  his 
reading.  A  budding  writer  once 
asked  Mary  Ellen  Chase  what  was 
the  best  preparation  for  writing,  and 
Mary  Ellen  answered,  ''Reading/' 
When  asked  what  should  be  read, 
Miss  Chase  answered,  "Geography, 
history,  and  the  Bible." 

I  would  add  to  that  a  good  back- 
ground in  botany  to  sharpen  the  eye 
to  nature's  wonders  and  their  rela- 
tionship to  human  behavior.  Or, 
at  least, .  one  should  be  intimately 
acquainted  with  a  garden,  the  fields, 
and  the  woods,  and  their  plant  and 
animal  life. 

Sources  oi  Poetry 

Where  do  ideas  come  from? 
From  everywhere.  Anything  that 
moves  you  is  likely  to  move  others. 
Some  of  my  poet  friends  keep  note- 
books into  which  they  jot  down 
some  idea  for  some  future  poem. 
But  when  I  walk  or  read  I  am  a 
great  reservoir  into  which  all  these 
streams  flow.  If  I  see  a  possibility 
for  a  poem,  it  is  a  poem  idea,  im- 
mediately and  explosively.  The 
range  of  human  reaction  is  so  wide 
it  is  virtually  impossible  to  tell  any- 
one else  how  to  write. 

In  reading  the  poetry  of  others, 
one  should  be  on  guard  against  re- 
flecting the  author  instead  of  one- 
self. Poems  that  spring  from  read- 
ing may  come  from  being  reminded 
of  an  experience  of  one's  own,  or 
from  a  passionate  disagreement  with 


the  author's  interpretation  or  con- 
clusion. The  conception  must  be 
one's  own. 

Poetry  is  a  labor  of  devotion.  The 
creator  should  enjoy  the  creation  so 
much  that  no  amount  of  criticism, 
study,  revision,  or  rejection  will  dis- 
courage him  for  long,  and  no  other 
pay  is  really  necessary  to  his  happi- 
ness. For  poetry  is  like  mother- 
ing, we  give  as  a  mother  gives,  most- 
ly unaware  of  whether  it  pays  or 
not.  If  we  fill  the  needs  of  the  read- 
ers our  poetry  will  find  its  place.  If 
we  have  something  that  is  beyond 
the  reader's  present  needs,  we  must 
still  be  true  to  ourselves  and  our 
talent  and  give  to  it  all  we  have.  In 
this  way  we  may  eventually  serve 
others  as  well  as  ourselves,  and  we 
do  not  bury  or  neglect  our  talents. 

Composing  Poetry 

Here  are  a  few  practical  sugges- 
tions. Say  you  want  to  reproduce 
a  scene  in  poetry.  Paint  it  as  a 
painter  would,  with  highlight,  cen- 
ter of  interest,  and  a  single  emo- 
tional effect,  as  peace,  silence;  a 
single  color  contrasted  with  its  op- 
posite —  a  golden  poplar  against  a 
blue  skv,  the  mellow  smell  of  apples, 
the  pungencv  of  marigolds,  the  tang 
of  chrysanthemums,  the  plum's 
deep  purple  fragrance.  Then  turn 
it  to  say  something: 

Oh,  surely,  some  gold  stays  when  there's 

so  much! 
Some   gold   the  heart  can  hammer  to  a 

shield 
To  fend  off  spears  that  grosser  days  may 

wield. 

Or,  again,  you  may  take  a  single 
image  and  hang  the  whole  poem 
on  it,  like  "Autumn  is  a  scarlet 
bird."  Then  you  have  its  colors. 
You  can   vary  their   tones   on  his 


POETRY  IS  FOR  PEOPLE 


297 


crest  and  head,  and  you  can  let  him 
escape  as  the  beauty  of  autumn 
does. 

"Free"  Verse 

A  word  about  "free  verse."  Some 
people  find  this  form  easier  to  write. 
Some  also  find  it  easier  to  read.  But 
remember  that  freedom  means  only 
the  right  to  discipline  oneself.  Poet- 
ry must  be  disciplined.  It  is  untrue 
that  the  "free  verse"  writer's 
thoughts  are  too  profound  to  fit  in- 
to conventional  form.  Surely,  the 
average  "free-versifier"  does  not 
think  more  profoundly  than  Milton. 
He  just  hasn't  mastered  his  tools  as 
well.  The  natural  discipline  of  hav- 
ing to  say  what  must  be  said  within 
the  given  bounds  of  a  certain  form 
helps  the  poet  to  discipline  him- 
self. 

So  let  us  conclude  that  in  writ- 
ing poetry  we  sharpen  our  senses, 
our  understanding,  our  insight,  and 
our  knowledge.  We  write  sincere- 
ly of  things  we  know  and  of  ideas 
about  which  we  feel  deeply.  We 
write  with  economy  of  words,  be- 
cause by  so  doing  we  deepen  the 
concentrate  of  the  poem  itself  as 
the  carbon  was  compressed  under 
great  pressure  to  become  a  dia- 
mond.    We  write  in  the  language 


of  our  day,  because  it  is  the  only 
language  we  know  and  the  one  that 
our  readers  expect  and  have  a  right 
to  find.  We  study  poetic  technique 
until  it  is  second  nature  for  us  to 
use  it  when  we  need  it— as  the  child 
who  has  heard  only  fine  English 
speaks  well  without  consideration 
of  grammar.  We  catch  the  read- 
er's interest  with  an  intriguing  title 
and  opening  phrase,  hold  it  with  a 
greater  or  lesser  amount  of  drama 
of  idea,  or  scene,  interpret  it  by  im- 
plication, and  conclude  on  a  high 
note.  Then  we  satisfy  ourselves, 
our  readers,  and  look  back  upon 
the  poem  with  pride  long  after  the 
heat  of  composition  has  cooled. 
Poetry  is  a  soul-satisfying  hobby 
and  to  some  of  us  it  may  be  a  mis- 
sion. 

References 

Buell,  Robert  K.:  Verse  Writing  Sim- 
plified, $1.50 

Coblentz,  Stanton  A. :  An  Editor  Looks 
at  Poetry,  $2 

Hamilton,    Ann:     Seven    Principles    of 
Poetry,  $2.50 

Hillyer,    Robert:    First    Principles    oi 
Verse,  $2 

Zillman,      Lawrence:      Writing     Your 
Poem,  $2.75 
The  above  books  may  be  ordered  from 

Writer's  Digest,  22  East  12th  St.,  Cin- 
cinnati 10,  Ohio. 


(cheerfulness  cJs  ^nilwaus  U\tght 

Anne  S.  W.  Gould 

\  \  TE  have  absolutely  no  right  to  annoy  others  by  our  various  moods.  Let  the  prevail- 
ing mood  be  cheerful  and  serene;  keep  your  other  moods  to  yourself,  or  better 
still,  get  rid  of  them. 


So  You  Want  to  Write  a  Story! 


Frances  C.  Yost 


UT  T OW  long  does  it  take  to 
I  I  write  a  story?"  a  dear  sister 
asked  me,  after  reading 
one  of  mine  published  in  our  be- 
loved Relief  Society  Magazine. 

I  pondered  her  question  for  a 
moment,  for  I  had  never  kept  track 
of  the  hours  that  go  into  the  mak- 
ing of  a  story.  Then,  with  a  bit  of 
a  twinkle  in  my  eye  and  a  bushel 
full  of  sincerity,  I  replied:  "It  takes 
a  lifetime  of  living;  a  few  days  of 
research;  a  day  or  two  at  the  type- 
writer; a  few  weeks  of  polishing  and 
perfecting,  and  sometimes  years  to 
jell  ...  and  sell:' 

True,  it  is  downright  hard  work 
to  write  stories.  Louisa  M.  Alcott 
said:  "Writing  is  harder  work  than 
digging  ditches."  Those  who  have 
tried  their  hand  at  writing  for  pub- 
lication will  agree  with  her.  Some- 
one with  more  wit  than  I,  has  said: 
"Writing  is  ninety-nine  per  cent 
perspiration,  and  one  per  cent  in- 
spiration." 

Writing,  however,  is  rewarding, 
not  only  because  of  a  cash  reward, 
at  times,  but  because  of  a  feeling  of 
creating  something,  akin  to  the  joy 
of  an  inventor. 

A  published  story  is  a  little  like 
a  finished  crochet  cover.  When  it 
is  completed,  the  beauty  of  a  cro- 
chet piece  can  be  shared  with  every 
person  who  enters  your  home.  But 
the  creating  of  a  story  is  more  far 
reaching.  Your  story  can  go  into 
many  homes,  yes,  thousands  of 
homes,  and  be  enjoyed. 

When  I  write  a  story,  I  try  to 
write  the  kind  of  story  which  will 

Page  298 


be  welcomed  into  a  fine,  clean, 
wholesome  home  —  a  story  a  moth- 
er would  be  proud  to  read  to  her 
growing  family. 

A  journalism  teacher  once  told 
me  this,  which  I  pass  along  for 
what  it  is  worth:  "A  writer  has  to 
decide  early  in  his  career,  if  he  is 
going  to  write  for  money,  or  if  he  is 
going  to  write  because  he  has  some- 
thing worthy  of  the  telling."  The 
latter  is  much,  much  more  im- 
portant, and,  if  writing  is  well  done, 
monetary  recompense  will  usually 
follow. 

Professor  Quivey  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Utah,  who  gave  me  my  start 
in  fiction,  said:  "Write  about  what 
you  know."  That  is  good  advice 
for  any  form  of  writing,  be  it  col- 
umns, newspaper  reporting,  articles, 
or  poetry.  But  it  is  even  more  im- 
portant in  fiction,  or  short  story 
writing. 

Let  us  chart  our  course  for  writ- 
ing a  short  story.  First  we  need  a 
fresh  idea,  a  plot  so  new  that  a 
reader  can  never  recall  anything  just 
like  it  before.  Then  we  need  to 
create  characters  to  act  out  the  plot. 
We  need  to  make  scenes  which  are 
as  realistic  as  the  seasons  them- 
selves, where  the  characters  can  live 
and  breathe.  Then,  last,  we  must 
turn  our  characters  loose  to  work, 
to  scheme,  to  live  the  plot  to  the 
inevitable  ending. 

Plotting  for  a  Plot 

To  define  a  plot,  we  can  say  it  is 
a  theme  for  our  story.  In  other 
words,  it  is  a  problem,  and  the  so- 


SO  YOU  WANT  TO  WRITE  A  STORY! 


299 


lution  of  that  problem.  There  must 
be  trouble  brewed  and  trouble 
solved  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
characters  in  the  story,  as  well  as  to 
the  readers,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
writer  and  editor. 

So,  to  start  a  story,  we  must  have 
a  fresh,  wholesome  plot.  It  is  best 
to  get  the  thread  of  the  story  from 
real  life.  Perhaps  it  may  be  an  in- 
cident from  your  own  life,  or  from 
someone  in  your  family,  your  an- 
cestors, or  the  little  couple  down 
the  street.  It  may  be  the  teenagers 
you  teach  in  English  class.  What- 
ever it  may  be,  it  must  have  a  prob- 
lem, and  a  logical  solution  to  that 
problem.  To  write  a  story  that 
lives,  the  plot  must  indeed  have 
life.  So  take  your  plot,  or  thread 
of  your  story,  from  real  life,  never 
from  something  which  you  have 
read.  There  is  a  law,  and  there  are 
penalties  against  literary  borrowing, 
called  plagiarism. 

Creating  Characters 

Now  that  you  have  the  plot,  or 
thread  of  your  story,  well  in  mind, 
the  second  part  is  to  pick  the 
characters  for  the  story.  The  main 
character,  who  has  the  trouble  and 
who  will  solve  the  problem,  and 
those  characters  with  whom  he 
comes  in  contact  in  the  events  of 
the  trouble  and  the  solution.  Make 
the  characters  live.  They  cannot 
be  puppets  whose  strings  you  will 
pull  on  a  stage.  Your  characters 
must  be  flesh  and  blood;  they  must 
be  created  by  you,  your  very  brain 
children. 

If  you  put  your  next  door  neigh- 
bor in  a  story,  be  very  guarded,  as 
she  may  recognize  herself.  You 
must    make    your    characters    truly 


your  own,  of  your  own  creation. 
Those  characters  must  live  and 
breathe  their  parts.  If  your  main 
character  weeps,  the  writer  must 
feel  the  sting  and  the  misery  that 
the  character  feels. 

Characters  must  be  described.  I 
like  to  describe  my  characters  as 
they  appear,  and  through  the  eyes 
of  the  viewpoint  character  in  the 
story.  For  example,  if  the  heroine 
sees  the  hero  come  upon  the  scene, 
let  her  tell  in  her  own  words  how 
he  looks,  not  you,  the  narrator. 

It  is  well  to  remember  in  charac- 
terizing, that  people  will  do  the 
logical  thing,  the  thing  which  is  in 
harmony  with  their  personalities, 
their  backgrounds,  and  their  train- 
ing. If  your  character  is  stingy, 
don't  expect  him  to  turn  tail  in  a 
short  story  and  be  a  spendthrift.  He 
might  change  in  a  lifelong  novel, 
but  not  in  a  short  story.  If  a 
character  is  a  hothead,  then  let  him 
solve  his  problem  in  a  hotheaded 
manner.  Coolness  and  calmness  will 
not  come  as  a  halo  to  envelop  him 
even  in  the  story  you  write.  Things 
happen  logically,  even  in  stories, 
or  the  story  doesn't  jell  and  become 
a  satisfying  and  integrated  portrayal 
of  life. 

Dividing  a  Story  Into  Scenes 

Now  that  you  have  the  thread  of 
your  story,  or  should  we  say,  plot; 
and  you  have  your  characters,  at 
least  the  main  one;  you  are  ready 
to  turn  your  thoughts  to  dividing 
your  story  into  scenes.  As  the  play- 
wright divides  his  play  into  acts,  so 
should  you  dramatize  your  story  in 
short,  well-developed  sections. 

The  first  scene  should  reveal  the 
trouble,  and  the  closer  to  the  begin- 


300 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MAY  1956 


ning  of  the  story  it  appears,  the  bet- 
ter. Dramatize,  don't  tell,  what  is 
wrong.  Don't  tell  what  happens, 
let  it  happen.  Make  the  reader's 
heart  sympathize  for  the  characters 
in  distress. 

The  second  scene  will  vary  with 
every  story.  It  may  be  a.  brief  flash- 
back, a  reversion  which  might  go 
back  into  the  childhood  of  the  lead- 
ing character.  The  flashback  should 
have  bearing  on  the  trouble,  as  well 
as  develop  the  plot  and  suspense. 
Some  stories  are  told  entirely  in 
the  flashback,  except  for  the  begin- 
ning and  the  ending,  but  this  tech- 
nique is  difficult  to  master  and  is 
usually  not  so  effective  as  direct 
narration.  Whatever  the  scenes 
are,  they  should  be  worked  out 
systematically,  dramatically,  and 
filled  to  the  limit  with  interest  and 
feeling.  The  question  might  arise 
as  to  how  many  scenes  to  have  in  a 
story.  The  answer  is:  as  few  as 
the  story  requires  for  its  comple- 
tion. Three  to  five  scenes  may  be 
sufficient  in  a  three  thousand  word 
story. 

The  last,  and  of  course  the 
most  important  scene,  is  the  finale, 
which,  ideally,  may  solve  the  prob- 
lem to  the  satisfaction  or  accept- 
ance of  the  leading  character,  the 
writer,  the  editor,  and  the  reader. 

That  is  all  there  is  to  writing  a 
story,  except  the  things  which  make 
a  story  live  and  breathe. 

Making  a  Story  Live  and  Breathe 

It  would  be  foolish  to  say  that  an 
effective  short  story  could  be  writ- 
ten by  planning  a  plot,  creating 
characters,  dividing  the  story  into 
scenes,  and  then  writing  it.  It  would 
be  just  as  foolish  to  say  a  story  can 


be  written  by  blind  and  witless  tap- 
ping on  typewriter  keys. 

There  is  no  exact  recipe  for  writ- 
ing a  story.  It  depends  almost  en- 
tirely upon  the  writer's  tempera- 
ment, the  way  her  mind  works,  and 
the  experiences  through  which  she 
has  passed.  It  is  a  matter  of  person- 
ality, background,  ability,  and  train- 
ing rather  than  one  of  definite  di- 
rections. 

I  can,  however,  suggest  a  five- 
point  check,  to  test  a  finished  story. 
If  you  can  answer  yes  to  each  ques- 
tion, there  is  a  chance  you  have  an 
effective  story: 

i.  Have  you  put  the  leading  character 
in  a  dilemma  from  which  there  is  no 
way  out  without  effort,  sacrifice,  or  a 
strategic  decision? 

2.  Have  you  made  the  character  take 
the  wrong  path,  or  make  mistakes,  until 
she  is  brought  up  with  a  jolt  to  the  real- 
ization she  must  do  something  about  her 
problem? 

3.  Has  she  gone  through  dark  moments 
when  everything  looked  confusing,  and 
it  seemed  impossible  for  her  to  find  a 
solution  to  her  predicament? 

4.  Has  she,  just  before  the  climax,  en- 
countered still  another  difficulty,  the  big- 
gest one  possible? 

5.  Then,  in  the  climax,  did  the  events 
work  out  logically,  whether  or  not  the 
forecast  is  for  complete  happiness,  or  a 
lighted  path  toward  future  accomplish- 
ment? 

If  you  cannot  answer  yes  to  these 
considerations,  it  may  be  advisable 
to  revise  your  story  or  plan  a  new 
one. 

Who  Should  Write 

No  person  should  tell  another, 
"You  should  not  write."    Who  are 


SO  YOU  WANT  TO  WRITE  A  STORY! 


301 


we  to  judge  another's  untried  poten- 
tial talent?  There  may  be  a  talent 
hidden  in  a  person  that  only  fail- 
ures will  bring  to  the  surface.  If 
there  is  no  talent,  time  and  dis- 
couragement will  prove  it  to  the 
aspiring  writer. 

At  any  rate,  the  story  within  you, 
can  only  be  written  by  you.  No  one 
else  can  write  it.  You  can  tell  your 
story  to  a  writer,  but  when  it  is 
written  it  is  the  author's  story,  not 
yours.  No  one  else  can  put  your 
heartbeat  there.  So,  the  story  with- 
in you,  burning  to  be  written,  must 
be  written  by  you. 

The  road  to  writing  is  marked 
with  stones  of  discouragement.  She 
who  chooses  to  write  must  Spartan- 
ize  herself,  toughen  her  spirit  to 
take  those  stones  of  discouragement 
in  her  stride,  as  she  climbs  ever  up- 
ward and  onward.  She  must  teach 
her  ego  to  compromise  between 
what  she  wants  to  write  and  what 
may  be  acceptable  and  desired  by 
her  publishing  medium. 

It  has  been  said:  "A  writer  must 
learn  to  live  mentally  and  emotion- 
ally to  the  greatest  depths  and 
heights,  then  translate  the  product 
of  living  into  manuscripts  that  add 
to  the  living  of  others/' 

Last,  a  woman  who  chooses  writ- 
ing as  a  hobby,  along  with  her  ca- 


reer as  a  wife  and  mother,  should 
decide  early  to  keep  writing  strictly 
as  a  hobby,  and  never  envy  women 
who  have  decided  to  follow  it  as  a 
full-time  career.  She  should  never 
write  when  her  conscience  tells  her 
she  is  neglecting  her  family  duties. 
She  must  believe  that  writing  brings 
satisfying  and  worthwhile  results 
only  when  she  follows  the  ideals  of 
her  womanhood  and  apportions  her 
time,  talent,  and  energy  into  chan- 
nels of  lasting  achievement. 

Bibliography 

Blackiston,  Elliott:  Short  Story  Writing 
{or  Profit,  Writer's  Digest,  22  East  12th 
Street,  Cincinnati  10,  Ohio,  $2.50. 

Campbell,  Walter  S.:  Writing  Advice 
and  Devices,  Writer's  Digest,  22  East 
12th  Street,  Cincinnati  10,  Ohio,  $1.50. 

Egri,  Lajos:  Your  Key  to  Successful 
Writing,  Holt  and  Co.  Inc.,  257  4th 
Avenue,  New  York  10,  New  York,  $3.00. 

Grace,  William  J.:  How  to  Be  Creative 
With  Words,  Fordham  University  Press, 
22  Park  Place,  New  York  7,  New  York, 
$4.50. 

Hamilton,  Ann:  How  to  Revise  Your 
Own  Stories,  Writer's  Digest,  22  East 
12th  Street,  Cincinnati  10,  Ohio,  $1.50. 

Mowery,  William  Byron:  Professional 
Short  Story  Writing,  Thomas  Y.  Crowell 
Co.,  432  4th  Avenue,  New  York  16,  New 
York,  $3.50. 

Short  Stories  for  Study,  Harvard  Uni- 
versity Press,  44  Francis  Avenue,  Cam- 
bridge 38,  Massachusetts,  $4.75. 


Song  QJrom  the  U\tm  of  Stu 


ence 


Elsie  McKinnon  Strachan 

The  rancher  quells  his  radio, 
The  red  barn,  wrapped  in  starry  hush, 
Is  outlined  by  the  moon's  ripe  glow, 
And  silence  leans  where  shadows  brush 
From  pasture  land  to  terraced  hill; 
But  none  requests  the  mockingbird 
Be  still. 


Who  Sings  the  Lullaby 


Rosa  Lee  Lloyd 


C  ICILY  Burke  Adams  sat  at 
her  polished  mahogany  desk 
and  sighed  contentedly. 
Everything  in  her  life  was  just  the 
way  she  wanted  it.    At  last. 

She  was  back  in  the  business 
world  as  Mr.  Holvorson's  private 
secretary;  her  three  children,  Stuffy, 
just  fifteen  months,  Susan,  past 
three,  and  Linda  almost  five,  were 
in  the  capable  hands  of  her  friend 
Nan  Jeffery;  and  Hank  her  hus- 
band, bless  his  big,  obliging  heart, 
was  almost  contented  with  the  set- 
up. 

At  least,  she  thought,  ignoring 
her  apprehension,  he  didn't  scold 
about  it  anymore. 

Her  beautiful  fingers  with  the 
long  crimson  nails  went  through 
the  morning  reports.  She  hadn't 
told  Hank  she  had  promised  Mr. 
Halvorson,  when  he  took  her  back 
last  month,  that  she  would  work 
for  him  permanently. 

She  lifted  her  head,  listening. 
Mr.  Cromer  from  San  Francisco 
was  in  Mr.  Halvorson's  private  of- 
fice. Cicily  hoped  they  had  every- 
thing settled  before  noon.  It  was 
Saturday,  and  she  wanted  to  go  to 
the  beach  with  Hank  and  the  chil- 
dren. 

Cicilv  looked  around  at  the  ele- 
gant  office.  This  was  where  she 
belonged.  This  was  where  she 
reigned  like  a  well-dressed  queen 
and  she  was  well  dressed,  she 
thought. 

Her  clothes  were  expensive,  of 
course,  but  Kale  Halvorson  insisted 
that   his   secretary   look   expensive, 

Page  302 


and  he  expected  her  to  be  gay  as 
well  as  efficient. 

"And  my  secretary  must  be  avail- 
able at  all  times,"  he  had  told  her. 
"We  don't  punch  time  clocks  in 
this  office." 

Cicily  lifted  her  dark  head  proud- 
ly and  mentally  patted  herself  on 
the  back.  She  hadn't  acquired  all 
this  without  a  struggle;  arguments 
with  Hank,  disappointments  about 
getting  home  to  dinner  and  calling 
off  holiday  arrangements  with  the 
children— like  this  week  end  when 
Hank  wanted  to  go  to  the  beach, 
but  she  might  have  to  work  with 
Mr.  Cromer.  She  wasn't  sure  yet. 
She  and  Hank  had  argued  about  it, 
but,  as  usual,  she  had  won  him 
over. 

The  corners  of  her  mouth  turned 
up.  There  weren't  many  young 
women  of  twenty-six  who  had 
everything;  the  love  of  a  good-look- 
ing husband,  a  coach  at  Westhill's 
College;  the  love  of  three  joyous 
children;  a  beautiful  home  in  the 
Fairmont  Park  district;  a  friend  like 
Nan  to  tend  the  children;  and  a 
job  that  meant  success,  compli- 
ments, and  more  money.  And  she 
had  Aunt  Flo,  her  mother's  sister, 
who  had  always  been  a  real  mother 
to  her,  as  her  mother  was  away  so 
much. 

Cicily  reached  for  the  memo- 
randa pad  and  made  a  note:  Call 
Aunt  Flo  tomorrow,  Mother's  Day. 
Always  when  she  thought  of  moth- 
erhood, Aunt  Flo  came  softly  into 
her  mind,  like  the  wistful  fragrance 
of  violets  growing  beside  the  old 


WHO  SINGS  THE  LULLABY 


303 


house  in  Clayview  of  Aunt  Flo's, 
where  she  had  spent  her  childhood 
when  her  mother  left  her  to  go  to 
New  York  to  work  as  a  designer. 

Aunt  Flo  had  been  widowed  at 
twenty-five,  when  she  had  four  stal- 
wart sons.  She  had  always  been 
home  when  Cicily  and  the  boys 
came  home  from  school  and,  by 
some  remarkable  coincidence,  she 
was  usually  just  taking  a  pan  of 
gingerbread  from  the  oven  or  whip- 
ping the  cream  for  apple  tarts. 

Cicily  bit  her  lip.  She  was  get- 
ting sentimental.  She  had  done 
her  own  part  as  a  mother  —  three 
children  in  six  years.  Now  she 
could  sit  back  and  gather  her  lau- 
rels. She  was  where  she  reallv  be- 
longed,  right  here  in  Kale  Halvor- 
son's  office. 

She  looked  at  the  door  as  Mr. 
Halvorson  came  out  with  Mr.  Cro- 
mer, a  big,  gray-haired  man  with 
peaked  eyebrows. 

"Sorry  you  can't  stay  over,"  Mr. 
Halvorson  was  saying,  and  his  voice 
told  her  he  had  closed  the  deal  sat- 
isfactorily. That  meant  Mr.  Cro- 
mer would  be  leaving  town.  Cecily 
was  thinking  joyously  that  it  was 
the  last  appointment  for  the  day; 
she  could  leave  early  and  take  the 
children  to  the  beach.  She  wouldn't 
call  Hank,  she'd  make  it  a  surprise! 

AN  hour  later,  Cicily  hurried 
down  the  pathway  toward  her 
home.  She  whistled.  She  hummed. 
She  tossed  her  work  to  the  wind 
until  Monday  morning  —  she  could 
be  a  little  mother  to  her  heart's 
content.  They'd  all  roll  on  the 
beach  and  build  castles  in  the  sand, 
and  when  the  children  were  asleep 
she  and  Hank  would  dance  at  the 
Pavilion,     Her  heart  lifted  at  the 


thought  of  this  long  week  end  with 
Hank  and  the  children. 

She  put  her  finger  on  the  door- 
bell, listening  for  the  customary  gal- 
lop of  little  feet,  the  delighted  hub- 
bub of  little  voices,  the  swoop  of 
love  that  would  envelop  her. 

But  the  door  didn't  open  even  at 
the  third  long  ring. 

Cicily  leaned  against  the  door 
frame.  Disappointment  seeped 
through  her.  The  grocery  store? 
Nan  liked  to  select  the  groceries 
personally  on  Saturday.  But  would 
she  take  the  whole  family  with  her 
while  she  did  the  marketing? 

And  Hank?  Had  he  gone  golf- 
ing? He  had  been  restless  lately. 
She  remembered  his  brooding  eyes 
during  their  argument  last  night. 

Oh,  well,  they'd  be  back  soon, 
she  thought,  regaining  her  poise  as 
she  opened  the  door  with  her  pass- 
key. 

She  went  through  the  hallway. 
Why  was  it  so  dark  in  here  at  this 
time  of  day?  And  then  she  noticed 
the  drapes  at  the  windows  were 
drawn  together  the  way  she  left 
them  when  they  were  going  to  the 
beach  for  the  afternoon. 

Cicily  spun  around  in  the  middle 
of  the  living  room  and  raced  to  the 
kitchen.  The  picnic  basket  was 
gone  from  the  top  of  the  cupboard! 

No,  she  thought,  Hank  wouldn't 
do  a  thing  like  this!  He  wouldn't 
just  pile  Nan  and  the  children  into 
the  car  and  drive  out  to  the  nice 
cool  lake.  He  would  have  phoned 
her.  But  maybe  he  had  tried  to 
phone  her,  and  she  had  already  left 
the  office.  He  would  think  she  had 
gone  with  Mr.  Halvorson  and  Mr. 
Cromer. 

She  walked  with  a  dull  ache  back 


304 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MAY  1956 


to  the  living  room  and  sat  down  on 
the  settee.  She  kicked  off  her  shoes 
and  curled  up  kitten-fashion.  The 
place  was  like  an  empty  shell. 

Her  arms  ached  to  cuddle  Stuffy's 
little  body,  to  feel  Susan's  hands 
tug  at  her,  to  hear  Linda  say: 
"Mumsy!  You're  home!  Oh, 
goody!"  Linda's  voice  always  bub- 
bled, but  when  she  said  this  there 
was  something  more,  a  sort  of  rev- 
erence. 

Cicily  leaned  back  and  closed 
her  eyes.  She  could  see  them  riding 
along  in  the  cream-colored  convert- 
ible. Hank  liked  to  ride  with  the 
top  down  on  a  bright  day  like  this. 
Stuffy  would  be  standing  up  in  the 
front  seat,  no  doubt,  squeezed  up 
tightly  against  his  dad,  one  chubby 
arm  around  his  neck  and  the  other 
arm  around  Nan.  Linda  and  Susan 
in  their  ruffly  little  blouses  and  tiny 
jeans  and  those  cute  little  blue  out- 
ing caps  she  had  bought  for  them 
last  week,  would  sit  in  the  rear  seat 
with  the  huge  wicker  picnic  basket. 

CHE  wondered  what  Nan  had 
worn,  but  Nan  would  still  be 
Nan  no  matter  what  she  had  worn. 
Her  husband's  plane  had  crashed 
last  winter.  He  was  making  a  slow 
recovery  in  the  hospital  and  that 
was  why  Nan  was  able  to  take  over 
for  Cicily.  Nan  wanted  a  home 
and  children  of  her  own  and  was 
praying  for  the  day  Rod  could  come 
home. 

Cicily  went  nervously  through  the 
house,  hoping  Hank  had  left  a  note 
for  her,  but  there  wasn't  a  message 
of  any  kind.  They  had  simply  gone 
away.  She  tried  to  think  what  Aunt 
Flo  would  do  in  a  situation  like 
this.    That  had  always  been  a  half- 


humorous,  but  very  workable  motto 
with  Cicily,  when  she  had  a  prob- 
lem.   What  would  Aunt  Flo  do? 

Aunt  Flo  would  get  busy.  She 
would  do  something.  But  what, 
Cicily  wondered. 

The  house  was  spotlessly  clean 
and  her  clothes  and  the  children's 
were  in  order.  What  was  there  to 
do?  Mr.  Halvorson  didn't  need  her 
today,  Hank  and  the  children  didn't 
need  her. 

Her  heart  turned  over  and  was 
suddenly  very  quiet.  She  sat  down 
limply  on  her  bed  and  stared  out 
of  the  window.  Hank  and  the  chil- 
dren didn't  need  her.  They  were 
out  on  a  picnic  having  fun;  Hank 
would  build  a  fire  on  the  beach  and 
they  would  put  weiners  on  sticks 
and  toast  them  until  they  were 
crunchy  brown.  If  Stuffy  got  tired, 
Nan  would  cuddle  him  in  her  arms 
and  sing  to  him  until  he  went  to 
sleep. 

The  long  afternoon  dragged  by. 
Hour  by  hour.  Cicily  read  the 
morning  paper,  she  turned  the  dial 
of  the  radio  aimlessly.  Nothing  in- 
terested her.  At  four  o'clock  she 
poured  a  glass  of  milk  and  opened 
the  cookie  jar.  It  was  filled  with 
cookies  shaped  like  witches  and 
brownies  with  creamy  white  frost- 
ing for  eyes  and  mouths.  She  could 
almost  hear  the  children  squeal  with 
joy  when  they  saw  them.  Nan  had 
probably  made  them  for  tomorrow. 
Aunt  Flo  had  made  cookies  like 
this  when  Cicily  was  a  little  girl. 

She  took  her  milk  into  the  living- 
room  and  looked  around  for  some- 
thing to  read.  There  were  chil- 
dren's books  piled  on  the  table 
near  the  chair  where  Nan  always 
sat.     Cicily  looked  at  the  one  on 


WHO  SINGS  THE  LULLABY 


305 


top:  "Bo-Bo  and  the  Starry-Eyed 
Kitten." 

"Bo-Bo/'  she  repeated.  That  was 
the  word  Stuffy  had  said  last  night 
when  she  came  home  from  the  din- 
ner Mr.  Halvorson  had  given  at  the 
Brokers  Club.  She  had  gone  into 
Nan's  room  to  kiss  Stuffy  good- 
night. He  had  been  standing  up 
in  his  crib,  his  fat  little  hands  hold- 
ing to  the  wooden  bars  as  he  bobbed 
up  and  down,  gleefully. 

"Bo-Bo!  Bo-Bo!  Bo-Bo!"  he 
had  chanted. 

Nan  had  been  undressing  Susan, 
and  Linda  was  taking  off  her  shoes. 

"Oh,  listen!"  Linda  had  said,  sud- 
denly, clapping  her  hands.  "Stuffy 
can  say  Bo-Bo.  Isn't  that  wonder- 
ful, Mumsy?  Nanny  reads  it  to 
us!" 

Cicily  had  thought  nothing  about 
it  at  the  time.  But  now,  it  wasn't 
the  word  Bo-Bo  that  pinched  her 
heart,  but  the  way  Linda  had  said 
"Nanny." 

It  was  natural,  she  assured  her- 
self, for  children  to  nickname  the 
one  who  was  with  them  all  the 
time  —  the  one  who  read  them  lit- 
tle stories,  patted  their  little  bruises, 
made  them  sugar  cookies  shaped 
like  brownies  and  witches. 

She  put  the  book  down  with  a 
thump.  She  was  getting  silly.  This 
silent  house  was  enough  to  make 
anyone  nervous. 

HTHE  telephone  rang.  She  reached 
for  it  eagerly.  It  might  be 
Hank. 

But  it  wasn't.  It  was  Kale  Hal- 
vorson. 

"Glad  you  were  in,"  he  said  brisk- 
ly. His  voice  had  the  tight,  held- 
in  tone  that  meant  something  big 
was  in  the  making. 


"The  Severage  option  comes  up 
tomorrow  at  a  private  meeting  in 
Denver,"  he  went  on.  "I  just  got 
a  wire.  Looks  like  the  smartest 
thing  we  can  do  is  be  on  the  spot. 
We'll  leave  here  by  plane  tomor- 
row." 

He  sounded  as  impersonal  as 
though  he  were  relating  their  plans 
into  a  dictaphone. 

Cicily's  heart  rebelled  against  it. 
She  couldn't  go  away  on  Sunday, 
and  it  was  Mother's  Day,  too.  Hank 
would  be  very  angry. 

"I'll  have  a  cab  pick  you  up  at 
two  o'clock  tomorrow,"  Mr.  Halvor- 
son concluded. 

Cicily  felt  anger  mounting  in  her. 
This  was  ridiculous.  Halvorson  act- 
ed as  though  he  owned  her;  as 
though  she  didn't  have  a  life  of 
her  own;  as  though  Mother's  Day 
wasn't  the  most  important  day  in 
the  year.  Hank  and  the  children 
had  been  planning  on  it  for  weeks- 
it  was  hei  day! 

But  she  walked  like  a  robot  into 
her  bedroom  and  took  her  suitcase 
from  the  shelf  in  the  closet.  Of 
course  she  had  to  go.  There  was 
no  argument  about  it.  You  didn't 
argue  with  the  boss,  and  Mr.  Hal- 
vorson was  the  boss.  He  was  the 
one  who  had  given  her  that  gener- 
ous bonus  last  month.  Her  reverie 
was  interrupted  by  the  sound  of 
stomping  on  the  stairs.  She  raised 
her  head  to  listen.  Yes,  the  chil- 
dren were  racing  down  the  hall- 
way, and  those  heavy  steps  behind 
them  would  be  Hank,  carrying 
Stuffy.  Oh,  joy!  She  was  glad  they 
were  back.  She  opened  the  front 
door,  stooped  and  gathered  Linda 
and  Susan  in  her  arms.  They 
smelled  of  sea-weed,  and  their  little 


306 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MAY  1956 


faces  were  still  rough  with  salt,  but 
their  arms  were  tight  around  her. 

"She's  home!"  Linda  squealed. 
"Look,   Daddy!     Mumsy's  home!" 

Cicily  lifted  her  eyes.  Hank  was 
beaming  down  at  her. 

"How  come?"  he  grinned.  "I 
thought  you  were  snagging  a  cus- 
tomer for  Halvorson?" 

"Not  today,  darling.  Or  tonight. 
Where's  Nan?" 

"We  dropped  her  off  at  the  hos- 
pital." 

They  all  crowded  through  the 
doorway  together  and  Cicily  reached 
for  Stuffy,  sleeping  against  Hank's 
shoulder. 

"I'll  put  him  in  bed,"  she  mur- 
mured. "Little  man  has  had  a  busy 
day." 

"I'll  say  he  has,"  Hank  laughed, 
following  her  to  his  bed.  "Know 
something,  Mrs.  Adams?  Your  son 
is  growing  up.  Nan  taught  him  to 
float  today!" 

"Not  really!  He's  been  afraid  of 
water!" 

"Not  anymore.  She  kept  her 
hand  under  his  back,  and  he  looked 
up  at  her  with  those  great  big  eyes 
of  his  like  a  scared  puppy.  But  she 
kept  on.  After  a  while,  she  took 
her  hand  away  and  the  little  tyke 
made  it  alone.  He  was  looking  at 
her  all  the  time  and  she  was  smil- 
ing at  him,  encouraging  him.  He 
knew  he  was  doing  something  big. 
Gosh,  he  was  cute!  Nan  is  a  natural 
mother!" 

Long  after  they  were  in  bed, 
Cicily  lay  awake  watching  the  sky 
through  the  east  windows.  The 
man  in  the  moon  wasn't  smiling  to- 
night. He  had  a  sad  face,  she 
thought. 

Her  eyes  went  to  Hank  sleeping 


beside  her.  Someday  she  was  going 
to  buy  a  bed  made  to  order  so 
Hank's  feet  wouldn't  hang  over  the 
end  that  way.  His  face  was  solemn 
in  sleep.  Solemn  and  quiet.  She 
liked  to  see  him  grin.  A  grin  was 
natural  for  Hank.  But  his  face  had 
settled  in  that  solemn  resigned  way 
after  she  had  told  him  about  going 
to  Denver  with  Mr.  Halvorson  to- 
morrow. 

/"MCILY  watched  the  moonlight 
highlight  his  strong,  even  fea- 
tures, the  square  chin,  the  ruffled 
brown  hair.  She  loved  him  terribly. 
And  he  loved  her  —  she  knew  that. 
Had  he  finally  grown  tired  of  fight- 
ing to  keep  her  home  with  him  and 
the  children?  Or  did  his  casual  ac- 
ceptance of  her  position  with  Mr. 
Halvorson  mean  that  he  didn't 
miss  her  quite  so  much  and  that 
the  children  didn't  miss  her  —  quite 
so  much? 

She  heard  Stuffy  whimper  in  the 
room  across  the  hall.  She  waited. 
Sometimes  he  did  that  and  then 
went  back  to  sleep.  But  the  whimp- 
er broke  into  a  wail,  a  terrified  wail. 
Cicily  got  up  and  hurried  to  his 
bed  in  Nan's  room.  He  was  stand- 
ing up,  his  chubby  hands  around 
the  wooden  bars,  shaking  them 
frantically. 

"Baby!"  Cicily  crooned,  putting 
her  arms  around  him.  "Baby  boy! 
Mumsy's  here.    Right  here." 

The  wail  grew  louder.  She  lifted 
him  in  her  arms,  but  he  stiffened 
his  body  against  her,  and  she  could 
hardly  hold  him.  Hank  came  in 
groggy  with  sleep. 

Cicily  hurried  to  the  kitchen  for 
a  glass  of  milk;  he  hadn't  eaten 
since  the  picnic,  but  he  pushed  the 


WHO  SINGS  THE  LULLABY 


307 


glass  away  with  both  hands.  He 
looked  past  Hank's  shoulder  to  the 
door  and  wailed  dismally. 

"What  in  the  world?  Hank,  shall 
I  call  a  doctor?"  Cicily  asked. 

"He's  not  sick,"  Hank  said,  im- 
patiently. 

A  sleepy-eyed  Linda  came  to  the 
door.  "He  wants  Nanny,"  she  said, 
philosophically.  "He  always  yells 
like  that  after  his  nap  till  Nanny 
comes." 

Cicily  caught  Hank's  sour  look. 

"Nonsense!"  she  said.  "Here, 
give  him  to  me." 

But  Stuffy  wouldn't  relax  against 
her.    He  refused  to  be  cuddled. 

They  heard  the  front  door  open, 
quick  footsteps  coming  down  the 
hall,  and  then  Nan  stood  in  the 
doorway. 

She  hesitated,  looking  from  Cic- 
ily to  Hank,  then  to  Stuffy  strug- 
gling in  his  arms.  Stuffy  saw  her, 
too.  He  stretched  his  arms  toward 
her,  and  Cicily  noticed,  with  a  little 
sick  feeling,  that  his  eyes  had— that 
special  look  that  a  child  gives  to  the 
one  he  loves  best. 

Hank  put  him  in  Nan's  arms  and 
walked  out  of  the  room.  Cicily  had 
never  seen  his  face  so  grim  before. 

Stuffy's  wail  turned  into  a  long 
satisfied  sigh,  as  he  cuddled  against 
Nan's  breast. 

"See,  Mumsy,"  Linda  pointed  to 
them.    "I  told  you,  Mumsy." 

OANK  was  quiet  coming  home 
from  church.  The  children 
laughed  and  babbled  in  the  back 
seat  of  the  car,  and  Linda  began  to 
chant:  "We've  got  a  secret  —  we've 
got  a  secret  .  .  .  ." 

Susan  chimed  in  with  her  flutey 
little    voice,    and    Stuffy    beat    his 


hands  together  trying  to  follow  the 
rhythm. 

Cicily  gave  Hank  an  eye-corner 
glance.  His  big  chin  squared  off 
grimly.  The  Mother's  Day  program 
must  have  stirred  him.  He  had 
loved  his  mother  dearly,  but  she 
had  been  dead  almost  three  years 
now.  Hank  hadn't  looked  like  this 
last  Mother's  Day  or  the  year  before 
that,  or  anytime  that  Cicily  could 
remember. 

"Better  telephone  your  Mother," 
he  said  and  his  voice  had  an  edge 
to  it. 

"I  sent  her  a  gift,"  Cicily  ex- 
plained. "I  don't  think  I'll  call- 
it's  expensive.  New  York  is  a  long 
way.  Anyhow,  she  might  be  out 
for  the  week  end.  But  I  do  want 
to  call  Aunt  Flo." 

A  warm  joy  went  through  her  at 
the  thought  of  talking  to  Aunt  Flo. 

Hank's  mouth  folded  in.  Cicily 
guessed  he  was  holding  back  some 
bitter  remark.  She  wondered  what 
was  going  on  in  his  big  curly  brown 
head? 

"We've  got  a  secret!"  Linda 
chanted  again.  "We've  got  a  se- 
cret!" 

He  swung  the  car  into  the  drive- 
way. The  children  climbed  out 
and  ran  ahead  of  them.  Even  Stuf- 
fy crawled  up  the  steps  on  his  hands 
and  knees. 

The  minute  Cicily  entered  the 
house  she  noticed  the  table  was  set 
in  the  dining  room.  Nan  had  used 
the  heirloom  lace  cloth  and  the 
sterling  silver  and  the  bouquet  of 
talisman  roses  Hank  had  sent  were 
in  the  center  of  the  table. 

And  then  she  saw  the  cake  on 
the  big  silver  tray  at  her  place.  It 
was  creamy  white,  three  layers  high, 


308 


RELIEF  SOCIETY  MAGAZINE— MAY  1956 


and  across  the  top  a  pale  pink  icing 
formed  the  word  "Mother."  Nan 
must  have  worked  like  crazy  to 
make  that  cake  while  they  were 
gone! 

Linda,  Susan,  and  Stuffy  stared 
at  it.  They  were  dumb  with  won- 
der.   But  only  for  a  moment. 

"Nanny  made  it!"  Linda  shrieked, 
clapping  her  hands  and  racing  back 
to  the  door.  "Daddy!  Hurry!  See 
what  Nanny  made!" 

Now  it  was  Hank's  turn  to  stare 
at  it,  big-eyed. 

"Some  cake!"  he  breathed.  His 
mouth  softened  around  the  edges. 
"No  wonder  the  children  were  ex- 
cited. I  don't  blame  them!  Come 
on,  let's  wash  our  hands  while 
Mumsy  fixes  dinner." 

Cicily  picked  up  a  note  on  the 
tray  beside  the  cake. 

"Dear  Cicily,"  it  began: 

"There's  potato  salad  and  sliced 
ham  in  the  refrigerator.  I'm  going 
up  to  the  hospital.  I'll  try  to  be 
back  before  you  leave.    Nan" 

CHE  crushed  the  note  in  her  hand 
and  took  her  hat  off,  thought- 
fully, as  she  went  to  her  room. 

She  hurried  to  the  kitchen,  tying 
on  her  apron  as  she  went.  She  was 
glad  Nan  wasn't  here.  She  would 
have  Hank  and  the  children  all  to 
herself  for  this  little  while  before 
the  cab  came  for  her. 

Her  eyes  flew  to  the  clock. 
Twelve-thirty.  They  would  have  to 
hurry  —  it  would  take  extra  time 
when  the  children  gave  her  their 
presents.  That  was  always  a  big 
event.  She  sighed  gratefully.  Hank 
had  taught  them  to  appreciate  her. 

And  she  wanted  to  call  Aunt 
Flo.    That  was  one  treat  she  had 


promised  herself  for  today  —  a  little 
visit  with  Aunt  Flo  on  the  tele- 
phone no  matter  what  it  cost. 

She  swung  around  from  the  re- 
frigerator with  a  bowl  of  salad  in 
her  hands.  She  stood  very  still.  A 
little  bell  tinkled  in  her  mind.  She 
was  poised  on  a  pinpoint  of  time, 
aware  of  its  signal. 

Why  did  she  want  to  call  Aunt 
Flo  instead  of  her  own  mother? 
Why?  Why?  But  the  answer  was 
already  in  her  mind  before  she 
asked  the  question.  Because  it  was 
Aunt  Flo  who  had  been  a  real 
mother  to  her.  It  was  Aunt  Flo  she 
remembered  with  that  deep,  warm, 
nostalgic  longing  that  children  have 
for  a  true  mother.  It  was  Aunt  Flo 
who  had  stayed  by  her  bed  when 
she  had  the  measles  and  the  mumps 
and  sang  all  those  crazy  little  songs 
to  her  that  would  always  be  a  part 
of  her  very  self. 

Another  woman  had  borne  her, 
but  it  wasn't  merely  that  biological 
fact  that  made  a  mother;  it  was  the 
years  of  sacrifice,  the  years  of  being 
there  when  you  were  needed,  the 
years  of  rearing  your  children  the 
way  Aunt  Flo  had  done. 

There  was  a  stinging  behind  her 
eyes.  She  could  hear  Hank  and  the 
children  laughing  and  talking  in  the 
bathroom.  Bless  his  big  fatherly 
heart. 

But  last  night  even  Hank 
couldn't  pacify  Stuffy  when  he  had 
awakened,  frightened.  He  had  cried 
for  Nan  because  she  had  become 
close  and  dear  to  him  this  last 
month  when  Cicily  had  been  away 
so  much.  In  another  month  Nan 
would  mean  more  to  them  than 
Cicily  did.  And  if  Nan  had  to 
leave,  someone  else  would  take  her 


WHO  SINGS  THE  LULLABY 


309 


place,  and  she  might  not  be  so  un- 
selfish as  Nan. 

She  bent  her  head  in  her  hands. 
What  would  Aunt  Flo  do,  she  won- 
dered achingly,  if  she  were  in  her 
shoes?  If  she  had  a  job  she  loved, 
what  would  Aunt  Flo  do? 

She  put  the  salad  on  the  table 
and  walked  determinedly  back  to 
her  bedroom.  Aunt  Flo's  picture 
was  on  her  dressing  table.  She  lift- 
ed it  and  let  the  sunlight  from  the 
window  shine  on  the  wide  whim- 
sical face.  Aunt  Flo's  mouth  was 
still  young  at  the  corners.  Cicily 
could  never  look  at  her  picture 
without  a  surge  of  gratitude,  a  flow 
of  love.  She  hoped  her  children 
would  love  her  the  way  she  loved 
Aunt  Flo. 

A  conversation  she  had  with  her 
before  Stuffy  was  born  came  back 


again:  "I'm  glad  you're  having  lots 
of  babies,  Cicily.  You're  prettier 
now  than  at  any  other  time.  And 
a  woman  can't  ask  for  much  more 
than  to  be  a  queen  in  her  own  home. 
Don't  let  someone  else  rear  your 
children,  Cicily,  unless  it's  an  ab- 
solute necessity.  Remember  any- 
thing worth  having  has  to  be 
earned." 

Cicily  put  the  picture  back  on 
the  dressing  table. 

'Thanks,  Aunt  Flo,"  she  mur- 
mured.   T  know  what  to  do,  now." 

She  walked  with  a  queenly  tilt 
to  her  head  and  dialed  Mr.  Halvor- 
son's  number.  He  might  as  well 
know  he  must  get  another  secre- 
tary, because  from  now  on  she  was 
staying  home  with  Hank  and  their 
children.  This  was  where  she  be- 
longed. 


JLove  s    Qjoltage 

Maude  Rubin 

Slow  hands  guiding  the  needle 

Pull  the  bright  threads  through, 

Caress  the  fabric  gently 

Just  as  they  used  to  do 

When  rose-sprigged  silk  was  a  dance-dress, 

When  brocade  blues  were  ties 

Chosen  for  Jim's  Christmas  present 

Because  they  matched  his  eyes. 

Long  thoughts  follow  the  needle, 

Sew  memories  into  the  quilt — 

Brief  tears  freshen  love's  foliage 

That  grief  nor  time  can  wilt. 

uttaaen    valley 

Ethel  Jacobson 

Amid  forbidding  peaks,  the  hidden  valley  lies 
Battlemented,  sheltered  from  interlopers'  eyes. 
But  silently  the  mole  burrows  in  its  sod 
And  the  waxwing  flashes  where  its  willows  nod. 

The  lizard  blinks  and  suns  on  a  windless  ledge; 
The  deer  come  at  dusk  to  the  spring's  ferny  edge. 
And  bluer  than  the  harebell  are  heaven's  arching  skies 
Mirrored  in  a  stream,  where  a  hidden  valley  lies. 


Sixty    LJears  J/igo 

Excerpts  From  the  Woman's  Exponent,  May  1,  and  May  15,  1896 

"For  the  Rights  of  the  Women  of  Zion  and  the  Rights  of  the 
Women  of  All  Nations" 

FOOD  FOR  THOUGHT:  When  we  contemplate  what  we  are  and  what  we 
should  be,  we  find  that  the  mind  needs  food  as  well  as  the  body:  and  needs  plain 
substantial  food,  which  will  both  refresh  and  strengthen  it.  Where  can  it  be  found 
if  not  in  the  holy  scriptures.  Here  we  find  the  thoughts,  the  feelings,  and  the  trials  of 
people  who  lived  in  this  fallen  world  many  ages  since  ....  Is  this  not  food  for  thought; 
especially  when  you  see  an  alwise  ruler  leading,  guiding  and  controlling  every  event  to 
benefit  and  preserve  the  precious  child,  until  his  father  saw  him  again  .  .  .  .? 

— Zion's  Convert 

EVENING  THOUGHTS 

The  twilight  gently  deepens